


Bonefish

by der_tanzer



Category: Riptide (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-20
Updated: 2010-05-20
Packaged: 2017-10-09 14:53:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 32,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/88604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/der_tanzer/pseuds/der_tanzer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When secrets and lies threaten Murray's life, a man from Nick and Cody's past returns to set things right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Return of the Bonefish

**Author's Note:**

> The hospital, though not specifically identified, is Oregon Health and Sciences University, as I knew it in 1997. If needles squick you out, beware.  
> 

_June 1997 _  
"I can't stop thinking about Burns," Cody said suddenly, waking Nick from a vague half sleep.

"What burns?"

"Private Burns. What was his name, Boner?"

"Bonefish," Nick sighed. "Bonefish Eddie, from the Bahamas, by way of Florida."

"Yeah, Bonefish. That kid—he should have gone home, you know?"

"A lot of kids should have gone home. What's the deal, Cody? What's Bonefish got to do with anything?"

"I don't know. It's this dream I keep having. That night, trying to lift off under fire and seeing that kid, that fucking South Florida fisherman's kid, taking a round in the neck. It makes me feel like something's wrong."

"Cody, that whole thing was wrong. A nineteen year old named Bonefish had no business being in Southeast Asia in the first place. And him getting killed, that was wrong, too. All those kids getting killed was wrong." Nick had been flying that mission, had missed seeing Bonefish Eddie Burns go down in a shower of blood while Cody reached to pull him on board. But he'd heard Cody shouting as the other guys pulled him back, heard him screaming and cursing as they lifted off, leaving the remains of Bonefish on the ground. And Nick missed the kid a little himself, after. He'd had a goofy sense of humor, a total lack of self-consciousness, a funny transparency that you didn't see much in combat. The transparency of a kid called Bonefish, who didn't get the joke when they all called him Boner. He never got the joke, but he laughed just the same.

Cody turned over and laid his head on Nick's shoulder, smiling at the heavy arm that encircled him so protectively. They'd survived, they'd come home, made a life for themselves. Nick had helped their captain write the letter to Bonefish Eddie's mother, telling her that her son had died a hero. That the guys had all liked him. That he was special. Cody had mourned him for the few minutes that were all a war allowed, and then shelved the memory, boxed it up and put it away with all the other things he didn't want to know anymore.

"So why am I suddenly dreaming about him now? It's been over twenty years. I haven't even thought of him in a decade and now he's haunting me day and night."

"You know, I never thought about it before," Nick said slowly. "But who did Bonefish look like?"

"Murray," he sighed, suddenly seeing the obvious. Murray was on the cover of Time last week, celebrated for his great work in the field of microprocessing. They'd both read it, reminisced some about the good old days, and then dropped it as a little too painful to pursue. They never quite knew why he left, but a lot of hard things had been said. The friendship continued in a way, but he'd been gone five years now and they hadn't seen him in two. Murray was too busy to fly down and his friends felt too out of place in his world to intrude. There were a few letters, phone calls at Christmas and on birthdays, but the old partnership was done. Had been from the time Murray got tired of being on the outside of their relationship and went to pursue his own life. They never really knew if he had succeeded, and Cody suspected that was what Bonefish Eddie was trying to tell him. Bone's life ended before it had a chance to go anywhere. Where had Murray's gone?

"We'll give him a call tomorrow," Nick said, reading his mind.

"Yeah, that's a good idea. Maybe, once I know he's okay, I'll stop dreaming about Eddie."

"You probably will. And he is okay. In the magazine he sounded fine."

"Sure, except—"

"Except what? Come on, I want to go to sleep."

"Well, they do those interviews a couple months in advance. Just because he was okay then, it doesn't mean anything about now."

"And suddenly something went wrong the day you started thinking about him again?"

"Nick, I've never stopped thinking about him. Have you?"

"You know I haven't. We really bitched that up, didn't we?"

"Yeah. I wish I knew how, though. If we just knew what we did…"

"Maybe it's not too late to find out," Nick said. Cody nodded against his chest, agreeing though his heart was filled with doubts. He was afraid of Bonefish Eddie, who seemed to imply that it was too late for anything but tears.

***

Murray had held onto his friends and his dreams for as long as he could. Being a part of the business was good, being a partner and (mostly) an equal in their lives was better. But he wasn't equal enough. Nick and Cody were in love and there was too much between them that he couldn't share. Being in the presence of so much love, so much passion, became more than he could stand when there was so little for himself. He'd gone to work for Intel in Santa Clara first, and then been transferred to Hillsboro, Oregon. That was when the visits had stopped and the phone calls became less frequent. Murray preferred to let them think he was happy, that he was working too hard and had too many friends to really miss them. But it was a sham and one look in his eyes would have shown the truth to the ones who loved him best. If only they had loved him enough.

Often, during the two years since he left California, he found himself working late in the lab or at home, wondering if he'd done right. He always worked late, wherever he was. He missed the small bow cabin of the _Riptide_, where the light was poor and the waves rocked him to sleep at night. Sometimes he wanted to go back, but there were too many things in the way. The cruel things he'd said when he left, the sense that they didn't miss him. And, worst of all, knowing that if he went back, nothing would change. Was it better to be right outside looking in, or too far away to watch at all? Even after all this time, he wasn't sure.

***

"Dr. Bozinsky, you have a phone call."

"Hmm?" He looked up into the face of his primary assistant, a woman ten years his junior who got paid to treat him like a child. Odd that she should come all the way back here in person when she had two assistants under her.

"A phone call," she repeated.

"Can you take a message? I'm right in the middle of something here. It's very…intricate."

"Yes, of course. But it's your friend Cody, from California. He asked to hold for you."

"Cody? Cody's on the phone right now?"

"That's what I'm saying."

He looked at the components on his table, as if considering whether he should put them away, then abandoned the project and got to his feet.

"Line two," she called as he hurried to his office, a space almost as cramped and cluttered as his cabin had been, but less friendly. He collapsed in his desk chair and picked up the phone.

"Hello, this is Murray," he said automatically.

"Hey, Boz, how're you doing?" The voice was so warm, so familiar and sweet, he nearly wept.

"Good. Everything's good. Working hard, making the world safe for online shopping. How are you guys? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, fine. We're fine. We just—well, we saw that piece about you in Time, and it got us thinking we hadn't talked to you for a while."

"Yeah? You really called me at work just to say hi? That's awfully nice."

"Yeah, well, I was thinking we should get together. Maybe Nick and I could come up there for the weekend, go over old times." He'd had no such thing in mind when he dialed the phone, but something in Murray's voice made him want to see his old friend face to face, and the sooner the better.

"Well, sure, that'd be great. I have to work some on Saturday morning, but if you want to meet me here, we could go to lunch."

"Good, that sounds good. What's the address?"

Murray gave it, along with directions from the airport.

"But it's not much of an airport. If you want to fly, you'd probably have to go to PDX and take a commuter down."

There was a hurried whisper on the other end and then Cody came back. "No, Nick wants to bring the Mimi."

"_Mimi_ still runs?" he laughed, glad Nick couldn't hear him.

"Better than ever, now that we're rich," Cody said. His mother had died not long after Murray left and the inheritance came in handy, especially when the agency folded. Murray often thought that if Cody hadn't gotten that money, he would have gone back. They would have needed him then.

"That's great. I have to get back to the lab, though. I left right in the middle of a—a thing. Say hi to Nick for me, okay?"

"Sure. Sure, we'll see you Saturday."

"Right, Saturday. Thanks for calling, Cody." He was aware that he was being too short, almost terse, but it was either that or start crying. They said goodbye and Murray went back to his lab.

Cody hung up the phone and turned to Nick.

"He said Saturday, but I want to go on Friday and surprise him."

"Why? I mean, I like a surprise as much as anyone but…"

"Because I don't want to see whatever version of his reality he wants to show us. I want to see what his life is really like."

"You miss spying, don't you? Just admit it."

"Maybe a little. But damn it, this Bonefish thing—it has to mean something. And it has to stop."

"You really think Bonefish Eddie dying has something to do with Murray? A guy we didn't even meet for the first time until Eddie was dead three years?"

"No, Nick, I don't think Eddie dying has anything to do with Murray," he said patiently. "I think me _dreaming_ about Eddie does."

"Well, whatever. I don't mind going on Friday. I want to see him, too. But what did he say about my chopper?"

"Said he couldn't wait to see her." Cody pulled him close and kissed him, long and slow, making him forget. For a while everything was forgotten, even Bonefish Eddie with the bullet in his neck. But that night the dream came back.

***

Cody bolted upright in bed, biting back a shout that made his throat hurt. Nick grabbed him and Cody collapsed, choking and sobbing, on the broad, warm chest. The arms around him were strong, still hard with muscle after all this time. But the whisper in his ear was all tenderness, soft and loving.

"He was so close," Cody moaned, his voice raw with fresh grief. "He got closer than he was supposed to. He touched my hand; I almost had him. When the bullet ripped his throat out, he didn't fall. He just stood there, looking at me with those big brown eyes. Murray's eyes."

"Cody, babe, don't."

"I have to. He said—" Cody choked again and Nick's fingers dug into the back of his neck. "He said _you let me go_. It was Bone Eddie's voice but they were Murray's eyes. He kept saying it, _you let me go_. We lifted off and he was just standing there, blood shooting everywhere, and I could still see his eyes."

"Cody, stop. It's not Murray, okay? Murray's up in Hillsboro, making microprocessors or whatever, and we're going to see him in two days. He's fine and even if he isn't—we're going to see him and we'll take care of it. If he needs us, we'll be there."

"What if it's too late? What if it's like Bone Eddie and we just get there in time for the end?"

"I keep telling you, that's got nothing to do with…" he trailed off and listened to his lover cry. Logic wasn't going to help right now. But something was nagging at him and after a minute he had to ask. "Cody, why did you call him that?"

"What?"

"Eddie. You just called him Bone twice in two minutes. That was never his name. It was Bonefish or Boner but never just Bone."

"In the dreams it is. That's what everyone's yelling and I know—I just know, in the dream, that that's his name. And it kind of fits, after."

Nick shuddered and Cody moved to cover more of the bigger body with his own.

"I wonder if Murray even understands how these things haunt us."

"He's got his own ghosts," Nick murmured, thinking of Nathan Warrick. Murray had gotten over that, had even picked up his gun again, as Nick and Cody had after 'Nam. But it haunted him just the same. Every man fought a war of some kind, whether the world joined in or not.

"What are we going to do if he's not okay?" Cody asked, finally pulling himself together.

"Whatever we need to. Whatever he'll let us. Now forget it, okay? We're gonna see him in a couple days so there's no sense worrying."

***

In a tidy house in Hillsboro, Oregon, Murray Bozinsky was also awake. He wasn't thinking about Bonefish Eddie Burns, a name he knew for entirely different reasons, and he wasn't cuddling with a lover for warmth. He was wiring a circuit board for Roboz2, a machine that was not only voice activated and able to learn, but also had fingers that could grip and, perhaps one day, even type. It was black and silver, far sleeker and more advanced than its predecessor, but not as friendly looking. The original sat in the corner, watching patiently as Murray rendered it obsolete.

Murray's old friends, almost anyone who had known him for more than three years, would be shocked by this house. It was bigger than he needed, with a spacious office and a neatly made up guest room for guests he never had. The dishes were always washed, the floors always swept, and the only appearance of disorder was in the office itself. But even that was clean. The girl dusted it twice a week, very carefully going over every surface and returning each item precisely to its place. There were only a few things she didn't touch, those in the plastic chest of drawers in the corner by the recliner. Only Murray and Mark touched those things. She cleaned the rest of the house every day, doing laundry and buying groceries as needed. Murray was hardly aware of her, rarely home when she was there, and sometimes even forgetting her name. His assistant had hired her, and if she quit, his assistant would hire another. _Her_ name was Stacey and he treasured her, even if she did make him get haircuts and wear clothes that felt wrong on his body. Better to wear wrong clothes than to go buy his own. Better to just work and let Stacey take care of everything else.

Because of all this care, he looked a lot better than he otherwise might have. Stacey fed him vitamins, made appointments with doctors and penciled them on his calendar beside staff meetings and photo ops, scheduled his haircuts and manicures, and chose the frames for his glasses. The ones he wore now were of such thin gold that he sometimes had trouble finding them. He had three pairs between the house and the office and Stacey carried another in her purse. It was expensive, all of it, but he could afford it, and the more he went along, the more he could afford. But if Cody had seen him that night, soldering his circuits and humming his mother's moon song, he would have been struck by something fearsome. If the man who was Bone Eddie in his dreams had Murray's eyes, this Murray had the eyes of the dying Bonefish, reaching for Cody's hand with his throat shot away.

***

"Dr. Bozinsky isn't expecting you."

Cody smiled his most charming smile, the one reserved even now for getting things from girls, and she narrowed her eyes. She was no _Contessa_ sweetheart, this one.

"I know, but if you could just let him know we're here, I think he'll want to see us." His eyes flicked to the nameplate on her desk. "Stacey, is it? And you're his—secretary?"

"Administrative assistant. Dr. Bozinsky is in the middle of an important project and doesn't want to be interrupted. If you'd like to make an appointment, I think I can get you in next week."

"No, that won't be necessary. He's expecting us tomorrow, we just got into town a little early. If you could just let him know we're here, I think he'll want to see us."

"Mmm, tomorrow?" She checked the calendar, frowning thoughtfully.

"Don't tell me he has appointments scheduled on Saturdays," Nick said, sounding angry.

"Often. Are you Cody Allen?"

"I am," Cody said, still smiling. "We might have spoken on the phone the other day."

"Mmm, that's right." She softened a little and smiled for the first time. "Just one moment." She keyed the intercom and relayed the message to another assistant. "It'll be a few minutes. He's in the clean room."

Both men relaxed and Cody's smile became more real.

"So you must know Murray pretty well. Have you worked with him long?"

"I've been his assistant since he came here. I used to work with a couple other designers, too, but he's become my full time job." A fond expression crossed her face and the men exchanged a look.

"Sounds like you're pretty close," Nick said and she looked up sharply. There was nothing threatening on his face but she was on guard.

"He's a good boss. He lets me do my job. And," she added, suddenly certain she needed to say it, "he reminds me of my brother."

"He's a little old to be your brother, isn't he?" Nick asked, half teasing.

"There were a lot of us. I'm the youngest and Eddie was the oldest."

"Bonefish Eddie Burns?" Nick and Cody said in unison. Stacey turned pale and her pencil fell from trembling fingers.

"How—how did you—did Dr. Bozinsky tell you…?"

Neither man spoke. All they could do was stare at each other and wonder what was going on.

"Please, how do you know about Eddie?" Her voice was strong and it gave Nick courage.

"Stacey, I'm Nick Ryder. We both served with your brother. I was flying the evac mission when he was killed. Cody here is probably the last person to see him alive."

"Nick Ryder. I'd know that name anywhere. Your captain, he mentioned you in the letter he wrote. That you and Eddie were friends. It was the last we ever heard about him; I memorized that letter when I was six years old."

"I'm so sorry. They didn't return his body?" Nick asked gently.

"He wasn't found. You're probably the last people to ever lay eyes on him, living or dead."

They looked at each other again, waiting for the color to return to her cheeks. Then Cody asked his own question.

"And Murray reminds you of him?"

"Something about his eyes. And more since he got sick. I feel like I'm helping him, the way I couldn't help my brother."

"Wait, what?" Nick said and then Murray was there, a thinner, more subdued Murray than they'd ever seen. But his smile was the same and when he hugged them there was no restraint.

"What are you doing here? Is it Saturday already? Stacey, did you forget to change my calendar?"

"No, sir, it's Friday. Your friends are early."

"I should have known. You guys, always flying in to surprise me. I told you about the first time they did that, didn't I Stacey?"

"The stockade or DynaGame?" she smiled.

"I guess they both count. And Stacey knows too much about me."

"Not enough, sir," she said, almost playfully. "You never told me that your pilot friend Nick was Nick Ryder."

"I didn't? Do you know each other?"

"He served with my brother."

"You're kidding. _You_ were the Nick who flew with Bonefish?" Murray looked as stunned as Stacey had, and the surrealism was palpable. "Stacey, if you'd just told me his last name…"

"Or you had. I just didn't think of it. You said you'd never been in combat—and I never thought…" The phone rang and she stopped, looking puzzled, as if unsure what to do. "Can I talk to you later? I have so many questions."

"Sure, we'll get together before we leave town," Cody said. He didn't want to, but this all had to mean something. Stacey picked up the phone and hit the button with her pencil.

"Dr. Bozinsky's office, how may I help you? I'm sorry, he's in meetings for the rest of the day. May I take a message?"

***

"So why did you come today?" Murray asked, showing them into his office. Stacey was still on the phone and he closed the door, shutting out her voice.

"A whim, I guess," Cody shrugged. "Funny, her being Eddie's sister."

"Is it? I mean, there are vets and families everywhere. Maybe you don't run into people you served with every day but—sometimes you do. Don't you?"

"Yeah, but the thing is…" A look from Nick stopped him, but not for long. "No, I want to tell him. Murray, I wanted to check up on you. There, I said it. I've been dreaming about Bonefish for over a week and every night he looks more like you. It was really starting to freak me out."

"Really? How odd. I mean, especially since I've been working with his sister all this time. And it bothered you enough to come all the way up here?"

"Yeah, it bothered me," Cody said, almost shouting. "I haven't had a decent night's sleep in a week because I keep seeing that kid spouting blood all over the jungle and my head knows it's a dream but—my heart keeps saying it's you."

"Oh. Well, I appreciate your worry but it's not. I'm fine. I haven't been shot in years." He was trying to joke, but it fell flat. In the back of his mind a voice whispered that Cody was here for a reason, and he closed his eyes against it.

"Are you?" Nick asked. "Stacey said you're sick."

"She shouldn't have," he said, his voice suddenly cold. "I'm fine. Bonefish Eddie got shot in Vietnam and I understand that was terrible for all of you, but it doesn't have anything to do with me."

"That's what my head says," Cody told him. "But you know what? My heart still says it's bullshit."

"Did you come all this way to call me a liar? Because I have a lot of work to do."

"You always have a lot of work. You always have had and you always will. But this is your one chance to talk straight to your best friends. Are you going to take it?" Instantly he regretted his words. Now Murray would say they weren't his best friends, and he didn't want to hear that.

"I don't have time right now," Murray said instead. "If you want, you can go to my place and wait for me. Or take a tour of Portland, if you have a car. Downtown is really nice."

"I wouldn't mind just crashing," Nick said, trying to defuse the situation. "If it's okay with you."

"Sure, take my keys. The guest room is at the end of the hall and you can make yourselves at home. I just need you to stay out of the office. It's the room with the signs on the door." He wrote down the address and drew a simple map. It was less than a mile away, as if he couldn't bear to be far from work. They were a little surprised that he didn't have a bed in his office, although the couch looked comfortable enough to sleep on.

"No problem, Murray, thanks. Do you know when you might be home?"

"Around six. I'll get out as early as I can and we can have dinner."

The tense formality was so foreign, they had to keep checking to make sure it was really Murray. He was so different. Not just the weight loss and the new glasses, although that was part of it. His short, tidy hair and stylish clothes were a symbol of the barrier between them and the sensitive little geek they used to know. Both were wondering if that man was still in there somewhere.


	2. Secrets Revealed, Lies Untold

Nick was sleeping in the guestroom while Cody watched TV in the living room. Murray's widescreen flat panel set was light years away from the fifteen inch box they still used on board the _Riptide_, but Cody would have bet good money that Murray watched it less. The stereo in the corner looked more used, but the whole place was altogether too clean and neat for Murray. It made him wonder just how much had really changed.

"There you are," he said cheerfully when Murray walked in. "You're early."

"Am I? I thought I said six."

"Yeah, I guess you did. I'm still used to you always being late."

"Everything's different now," Murray shrugged, putting down his briefcase. "I've already eaten. If you know what you want, I can have it delivered."

"You already ate? I thought we were going to have dinner."

"I'll explain in a minute. Where's Nick?"

"Sleeping. I'll go get him." Cody got up, watching Murray almost warily. It was getting scary, how different he was.

"I'll be in my office." Murray was taking off his jacket, already leaving the room. Cody woke Nick and told him about the bizarre exchange before they joined Murray. Neither knew what to think, but when they finally got there, the last surprise was in place and all of their questions were answered.

Two chairs waited by the desk, but Murray was in a corner, sunk deep in a soft recliner between the orange Roboz and a machine unlike anything his friends had ever seen. It towered over him, humming and whirring, and two plastic tubes ran from it to Murray's left forearm. He was plugged into the machine, and had plugged himself in, which somehow made it worse.

"Murray, what is this?" Nick asked softly.

"It's my hemodialysis. If you'd come tomorrow, like you were supposed to, you could have missed it."

"Hemo what?" Nick said at the same time Cody said, "Dialysis? You're on dialysis? What the hell is going on?"

"Kidney failure, of course. Sit down, for heaven's sake. Did you decide what you want for supper?"

"That can wait. Murray, what's—what is this?" Cody asked again. "What are—what's…?"

Murray saw where he was looking and understood.

"It's called an AVF. Arteriovenous fistula. There's a sort of tunnel connecting the artery and vein so more blood can be moved faster. It speeds the dialysis and strengthens the vein so it can handle more needle sticks. I buttonhole, though, as much as I can, and put the needle in precisely the same spot every time."

"That sounds awful," Cody said, looking ill.

"It just takes steady hands. The nurse comes and does it when I'm too tired."

"That's not what I meant. Why didn't you tell us?"

"It's a secret. I've been doing this new experimental home treatment for a little over a year, so it won't affect my job or the company. I do it every other day for four hours and so far, my health is good. Stacey has a dietician keeping track of my meals, and the nurse picks up my meds and puts them in those little boxes, you know, with the different times of day. It's all very—civilized."

"Except that you're cycling your blood through a machine to stay alive," Nick said dryly.

"In the most up to date, civilized way possible. I'm one of only three people in the country using this machine and these techniques. This is why I couldn't wait and have dinner with you. I'm sorry I fibbed about that, I just didn't want to explain it right then. See, I have to finish eating at least an hour before I start or my blood pressure tanks. Stacey makes sure I have something by five on dialysis days."

"She takes pretty good care of you, then?" Cody asked casually.

"Oh, yes. She treats me like her brother half the time and her son the other half. I don't know what I'd do without her."

"So she's not, you know, your girl?"

"Stacey? No, she just works for me." He laughed a little, but they weren't sure why. "Even if I had time for girls, no sane person would get involved with me now. I have to plug myself in every two days, remember?"

"But she loves you, Boz. Anyone can see that."

"Sure, she loves me. But she's not _in_ love with me. I don't have time for that, anyway."

"How long has this been going on?" Cody asked, still unable to believe it. "How long have you been sick?"

"A couple of years, I guess. It started not long after I got here. I'm on the transplant list but since I'm so stable, managing so well, I'm not exactly at the top."

"What about a—a live donor?" Nick asked. "With your network and reputation, there must be someone who'd give you a kidney."

"That's why it's a secret. I'm not going to ask for special treatment because I'm famous. I'm not that important."

"Murray, that's crazy. Anyone would ask," Cody cried. "At least their friends and family—you have to try."

"I asked my family. No one was a close enough match. Baba was so disappointed. She really wanted to do it."

"I'll bet. But I still don't understand. It's not like you'd be line jumping. You're not offering to pay for it."

"He's right," Nick said. "Someone would offer, just because it's you."

"I know. That's the problem. I'd get the coverage and it's not fair. If it was some ordinary guy with a wife and kids, someone people needed, he wouldn't get it. I'd be on CNN and he'd be in his hometown paper with a circulation of twenty two fifty. I just can't do that."

"But people _do_ need you, Murray. Your work is so important."

"Work doesn't matter with no one to love. Leave the organs for people with friends and families."

"Murray, you're not making any sense," Nick said flatly. "And while we're at it, what are you even doing here if your work isn't important and you have no friends? If that's how you feel, why did you even leave? Weren't we your friends?"

"You were the best friends I ever had," he said quietly. "I loved you more than anything."

"Then _why_?" This was the question that, after the first big blow up, had never been asked. There had been so much yelling, so many ugly words exchanged on both sides, that only by avoiding it entirely could any semblance of a friendship be saved. But now, with Murray sunk in his deep chair, his blood spinning through a machine by his side, it didn't seem to matter so much.

"Because you didn't love me back," he sighed, tears spilling down his sunken cheeks.

"What?" they cried in unison.

"You heard me. I loved you so much, but you didn't love me back. Not the way I needed, at least. I tried, I really did, but I could only watch it for so long. I could only be in the way for so long. Then, one day, I just couldn't anymore."

"Murray, why are you telling us this now?" Nick asked. "Why didn't you tell us years ago, before you left? We've missed you so much…"

"Tell you what? That I was in love with you both? That I wanted to be part of your relationship? How would that have worked? Even if I could survive the rejection, you'd never look at me the same. Maybe not each other, either, if one of you thought the other was encouraging me. I didn't want to ruin what I had."

"But you did," Cody said sorrowfully. "You left."

"I had to. It was enough that I was screwed up. I didn't want to screw things up for you, too."

"But you did," he said again. "Things were never right after you left."

"But you stayed together. You let me go," Murray said and Cody leapt to his feet. Nick tried to grab him but he dodged and crossed the room in three long strides.

"We let you go because you _wanted_ to go," he shouted, guilt and regret blending into something like rage. "At least you _said_ you did, and how were we supposed to know?"

"You weren't," Murray whispered, chastened. "That was the point, to not mess things up."

"But you didn't know it would." Cody lowered his voice, let the depth of his regret show, and said, "Murray, we always loved you. Nick, didn't we…?"

"I did. I still do. The idea that you've been sitting up here for two years, sick and friendless, makes me want to cry."

"It'd be better if you didn't," Murray said, smiling faintly. "I've kind of got that covered."

Cody knelt down by the chair and picked up his free hand, startled by how light and bony it felt.

"Murray, those dreams mean something. After Bonefish is shot, after he should be dead, he looks at me with your eyes and he says you let me go. He says that every night now, just like you. I can't help Bone, that ship sailed twenty-some years ago, but we can help you. You don't have to do this alone."

"Cody, I'm going to die. I'm going to be on dialysis for a while and then I'll die, that's how it works. I don't need to screw up your lives while I'm doing it."

"Too late," Nick said, going to him and sitting on the arm of the chair. He put his arm around the skinny shoulders and Murray couldn't help leaning into him a little, like old times. "You screwed us up when you left. And if you think that dying alone when we could have helped is going to make it better, then buddy, you're overpaid."

"But there's nothing you can do," Murray sighed, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes. "It doesn't matter where I am or who I'm with, this thing is going to play itself out just the same."

They were silent for a long time, having no ready argument for that. Nick kept hugging him, Cody held onto his hand, and the machine went on spinning his blood. Murray closed his eyes and wished they hadn't come.

***

After a while Murray called the girl, Rachel, to pick up supper for the guys and sent them into the kitchen to eat. They didn't want to leave him with an hour to go but he insisted. He claimed it was for their sake, because they were hungry, but he really wanted to be alone and they knew it.

"What do you suppose he means, in love with us?" Nick asked, picking at his food. "Do you think he really means _in love with_?"

"I don't know, maybe. What if he does? Is there some way we could handle that where it wouldn't be a total disaster?"

"I can see his dilemma. I mean, I know what I want to say, but I don't know how you'd react."

"Yeah, me too."

"Yeah? You know what you'd say?"

"You first," Cody said, half laughing.

"Shit. We never should have let him go."

"I think we're agreed on that. Nick, if he'd told us, would you have…?"

Nick looked down at his plate, nodding faintly.

"Yeah, me too. It would have been weird and awkward, maybe, but I'd have wanted to try before we just let him leave."

"It might have messed things up some," Nick said quietly, "but I think we could have made a go. I think we loved each other enough."

"I know we did. But what about now? Is it too late?"

"I think we better stick around until we find out. And there's something else we better find out, as long as we're here."

"Donor matches?" Cody grinned, taking ten years off his face.

"Buddy, you're reading my mail."

They were washing the dishes when Murray came in, going straight to the fridge for a juice cube.

"You don't have to do that," he said, half-heartedly. They always did what they wanted, no matter what he said. "Rachel will take care of it tomorrow."

"No trouble," Nick shrugged. "Rachel, the girl who brought the food?"

"Yeah. She comes in the mornings to clean and then she's on call after six, so Stacey gets time off."

"Wow, a whole crew of women to do your bidding," Cody teased.

"Just two. No, three. It's the only way I can keep up with my work and treatments. Stacey comes with the job but I pay Rachel, or whoever. There's usually another one, too, so she can have some time off. The girls kind of come and go."

"But not Stacey. She sticks with you?"

"Like a sister. The dietician's a regular, and I really like my nurse, but Stacey's probably the most dedicated member of the gang. She was tested for a donor, too, even though I wouldn't have taken it from her. I was glad when she didn't match." He sat down at the table and sucked his frozen orange juice.

"Why?" Cody asked, turning away from the sink. "Why wouldn't you take her kidney if it matched? It would save your life and probably make her feel better about her brother. Not to mention the fact that she's crazy about you."

"I'm just her boss. She could work for anyone. And she might need that kidney herself some day. I know I'd be in a lot worse shape if I didn't have two, as little good as they are. Anyway, she didn't match so it doesn't matter."

"Okay, granted. Stacey's kidney is irrelevant. But Nick and I are going to be tested, too, and if one of us matches, you're going to take it."

"No," he said, shaking his head in that way they knew so well. "That's exactly why I didn't tell you. You don't owe me anything and I don't want you feeling like you do."

"Murray, it's not about debt," Nick said furiously. Cody laid a gentle hand on his arm and he shook it off. "It's about our friend's life. Wouldn't you do it for us?"

"Of course I would."

"Then what's the hold up?"

"I'm not you. Saving one of you is giving you _both_ life. I'd die for that. But if I take a kidney from one of you and something goes wrong, if the donor has surgical complications or needs that kidney later, I've ruined both your lives. And that would ruin what's left of mine. I just can't do it." He swallowed the remaining sliver of the cube and licked his fingers, a touchingly innocent gesture.

"And not trying will poison the rest of our lives," Nick said flatly. "Face it, we're all in this together now."

"We always were," Cody corrected. "Stacey's brother brought us here to help you. I'm sure of that now. Bonefish Eddie's been telling me to come, for our sake and yours and Stacey's, too."

"I thought I was the only one who believed in ghosts."

"Dreams aren't ghosts," Cody grinned. "And you believe in those, too, don't you?"

"Sometimes," he shrugged, not looking up. "But mostly it seems like all my dreams died a long time ago."

"Well, let's start with reality. We're going to help you get that kidney somehow."

Murray shrugged again.

"Did you really keep it a secret so you wouldn't get preferential treatment?" Cody asked. "Or were you just hiding it from us? Were you willing to die specifically to avoid the risk that one of us might match?"

"It's a terrible operation," Murray whispered. "You could die. I couldn't take that chance."

Cody let out a deep sigh and sat down beside him.

"You gave me blood once, Boz. You knew I might match."

"It's the first step. I was afraid if it was publicized, you might remember that and go through the rest of the process. I was afraid of—this."

"You're definitely overpaid," Nick said and Cody spun around and kicked him. Smiling a little, he went on, "You gotta stop doing that, Cody. And, Murray, you're being stupid. Neither of us owes you life, we know that, but we'll give it to you if we can. It must be safe enough or people wouldn't do it. I never heard of anyone refusing to give an organ to a loved one out of fear."

"I think it's rare, which, again, is why it was a secret. I knew you'd insist if you knew. Stacey and I have had this fight a hundred times already. She would have blown it up ages ago if she didn't know I'd fire her."

"She's risking your life to save her job?" Nick asked, moving to sit on Murray's other side.

"I need her. The donor's a long shot but she's keeping me alive right now. She doesn't trust anyone else to do the job and neither do I."

"You've really got everyone sewn up, don't you?" Cody remarked. "No one can make a move to help you without fucking up your life even worse. Nick, I don't think he's overpaid at all."

"What do you want from me?" Murray asked softly.

"Just for you to let us help. Now that we know, there's no reason not to go public. If neither of us match, and Nick won't, we'll find someone who does. You don't have any reason to hide anymore."

"I guess I can't just throw you out, can I?"

"Nope," Nick said, almost too lightly. "And I don't think you can run away, either."

"Not if you want Bonefish to get off my back," Cody added.

"I wonder why that kid cares what happens to me?"

"I think his sister sent him. You're the one who used to tell us about psychic energy and that thermodynamics stuff—"

"Energy can be transformed but it can't be lost," he said dully.

"Right. Stacey associated you with Bonefish, and so did I. Somehow we connected."

"I can't listen to this much longer," Nick said. "I don't believe in ghosts or psychic dreams, I just believe in Murray getting better. Now, how do we do that?"

"Call my doctor and set up a test, I guess. Can you stay until Monday?"

"We can stay as long as you need us."

Murray smiled a little, giving in, like he always did. They were right. He had to, or things would only get worse. Everything he'd done to protect them was in tatters and if he died now they would only blame themselves.

"You always trap me like this," he sighed, still smiling. "There's no getting away from you, is there?"

"I wish you'd realized that ten years ago," Nick said, laying a hand on his shoulder.

"In all fairness, you did let me go pretty easily," Murray reminded him. Cody's hand closed around his wrist and he turned to apologize. Before he could, Cody spoke.

"We did, you're right. But you said you were unhappy with us and you just didn't want to be there. How could we fight that? You said it was our fault. We thought we were doing the right thing, letting you leave. But we didn't make it easy, did we?" he added, his eyes filled with sympathy.

"You said you only took me in because you felt sorry for me."

"I didn't mean that," Nick said quickly.

"I know. I didn't believe it the first time, when we were all fighting over that stupid magazine article, but when you said it again, even if it was years later—well, I won't say I fully believed it, even then. But I needed a better excuse than _I want to sleep with you_."

"We never meant to put you through that, either," Cody said. "But I have to ask one question. When you say _you_, is that singular or plural?"

Murray laughed, looking from one to the other in disbelief.

"Plural, of course. I could never choose between you in anything except cooking."

"And you're a better cook than either of us."

"Not anymore. If I went to the store I'd break down and get nothing but Fritos and Pepsi. Now I just eat what the dietician brings and try not to think about it."

"So you do have a crew. I'm not laughing, Boz, I think that's wonderful."

"I need all the help I can get if I'm going to finish Roboz2 before…"

"Before what?" Cody asked, squeezing his wrist.

"Just—while there's time. About all I do for myself anymore is brush my teeth."

"You look good. Whoever buys your clothes has good taste."

"Stacey does sometimes, or one of the girls. Rachel or, whatshername, Callie. They put stuff in the closet and I wear it."

"Do they decide how you'll wear your hair, too?" Cody ran his hands through the short spikes, making him shiver.

"Stacey goes along and tells them what to do. She says I look like Hugh Grant."

"Yeah, a little," Nick agreed.

"Great. And I don't even know who that is. They've rebuilt me, guys. I've had speech training, I have speech writers, I'm only allowed to wear pocket protectors in my lab coat and Stacey's still always thinning out the pens. And now I look like a guy named Hugh and there are designer's initials on my glasses. It's deranged."

"So why do you do it?"

"Because I get to run my department my own way and the budget is huge."

"Well, that's more than we can offer you, for sure," Cody laughed. "We're back doing tours and charters."

"You're not," Murray said, disbelieving.

"Not for the money, just to fill the time. We get to meet a lot of interesting people and set our own hours. I hire out as a pilot, too, and Cody teaches basic seamanship and safety at the high school. They have a club that meets year round."

"Sounds like fun."

"It is. We have a good time and, except for you, we don't worry about much."

"You worry about me?"

"Yeah. You were always our best friend," Cody said. "We never stopped missing you."

"I missed you, too. The only reason I didn't go back was that I loved you too much."

"You've gotta know you can't say that and then refuse to let us save your life," Nick said, hugging him closer. Murray turned toward him and was confused when their lips met. He tried to pull back and Nick's arm tightened around his neck. It lasted only a few seconds but tasted like forever. When Nick released him he turned away, embarrassed, seeking Cody's forgiveness. Cody kissed him, too, and his confusion grew.

"He still blushes the same," Nick laughed. "Some things never change."

"Yes, things like, I still don't want your pity," Murray whispered.

"No one pities you, babe. It's all about love. Isn't it, Cody?"

"So far as I'm concerned."

"Let's not talk about it right now, okay?" Murray asked. "I've had a long day and—I'm really tired."

"Sure. Do you need to go to bed?"

"I think I should. I'll be able to get up earlier and get some work done in the morning."

"Do you have to work tomorrow?" Nick asked, worried.

"For a little while. I'll be done by noon and we can do something good." He withdrew carefully from their hands and got up. "Is your room all right? Do you need anything?"

"It's fine," Cody said. "If we need anything later, we'll just ask the girl, right?"

"I leave notes for her on the fridge. If you're not up when I leave, just tell her what you want for breakfast and she'll pick it up. I doubt there's anything here you'd like."

"Wake us when you get up," Nick told him, falling automatically into giving orders. "We came here to spend time with you."

Murray choked a little and hurriedly said goodnight. He hugged them both and escaped, fleeing his own kitchen before they could make him cry again. Tomorrow he would do better. He'd be used to it then.

***

Nick and Cody were up and dressed when Murray got out of the shower. He'd accidentally scratched his access site and then lay awake all night, feeling it throb, thinking about being kissed by his friends, and wondering what it meant. His mind was a whirl of confusion, his body filled with pain, and there was no rest at all to be had.

But when he saw them in the morning, a simple joy rose up in his chest. It was hard to remember why he'd tried so hard to avoid them, why he'd limited contact and been so distant when all he wanted was to be held and petted. At this point, it was hard to even remember why he'd left. Especially in light of how easy it was to get them to hold and pet him. Even taking a kidney didn't seem like such a big deal.

"Hey, good morning," Cody said cheerfully, meeting him in the hall. It took them both back to the good years, before the stress started to show, and everything between the three was natural and unforced. Murray looked at his friend and tried to imagine an organ grown by Cody functioning in his own body. So close to his old dreams, and so nightmarishly different.

"Good morning, Cody," he said shakily. "Did you sleep all right?"

"Like a baby. Normally I don't sleep well on land but that's a nice bed you've got."

"Hmm. I wouldn't know. Stacey picked it out."

"Yeah? She going to come by and comb your hair, too?" he teased. Murray put his hand to his head and felt the damp disarray.

"No, she does it at the office. She's got this stuff, some kind of mousse—I don't know. It looks good in the pictures."

"Actually it does. You always were cute when you bothered to be." Cody kissed him on the cheek and went into the bathroom, leaving Murray standing there with Nick, who had yet to say a word.

"You look confused."

"I'm always confused outside of work. Nick, what's going on?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, what's going on? What's in your heads, hanging around here being—being nice to me."

"We love you, Mur. We're always gonna be nice to you. Maybe we weren't before, but those were extenuating circumstances."

"They were?"

"You were lying to us. Now that everyone's telling the truth we can get back on track, right?"

"On track?"

"Murray, don't you think we belong together?"

"Yeah, I guess I do. At least, if don't, I also don't belong with anyone else. But I have a contract here, and I need my doctors. I can't leave."

"No, I know you can't. We'll just have to stay here until things get straightened out. And, honestly, do you still need to work? I know you like it, but do you need the money?"

"I don't know," he shrugged, blushing a little because it was true. "I like having the insurance, that's for sure. And if I have a transplant, my care afterwards wouldn't be cheap. I probably have enough saved up to cover it but I'm not sure. I'd have to check with Stacey."

"She's not your accountant, is she?" His tone was suspicious, as if he'd finally gotten to the real heart of the assistant's dedication.

"No, of course not. But she talks to him and gets me information. She goes between me and just about everyone."

"Well, money doesn't matter anyway. Cody's mom left him a lot of good investments and we can take care of whatever you can't."

"No," he said at once. "I won't take your money."

"You will if you have to. God knows we've taken enough of yours over the years. And we're going to do this together, okay? Like we used to. What's ours is yours."

Murray blushed without quite knowing why, staring at his bare feet on the pale blue rug.

"You're not even dressed and here I am trying to plan your future. We can talk about this later, after work. Right?"

"Yeah, after work. But I have to say something. I'm sorry I was such an asshole about all this, about not telling you and the way I acted when you got here. I really thought it would be better if I just disappeared but—that wouldn't have worked, would it?"

"No, but it's okay. Go on and get dressed. We have plenty of time to talk when you're sitting down."

"Always the mother hen," Murray grumbled good naturedly and went to his room. It was so good having them back.


	3. Jefe y Esclavo

When Murray came home for lunch, he found his friends watching TV while Rachel cleaned in the office. They'd been out driving around most of the morning and had already had their lunch so he wouldn't have to watch them eat good food. He told them it wasn't necessary, but his eyes said he was pleased.

"So what are you having?" Cody asked, leaning over his shoulder as he picked through the refrigerator.

"Looks like tuna and carrot sticks."

"Carrots? Good God."

"Less water than other vegetables. And the bread will be low sodium, too. I haven't had salt in so long, I can't remember."

"Is that why you're so thin?" Nick asked. "I always thought kidney patients were bloated."

"A lot are. I'm very strict about diet and fluids, and doing the dialysis more often helps." He sat down at the table with his sad little sandwich and four ounces of water in a beaker with measurements marked up the sides.

"Why don't other people do it more often, if it's better?"

"That's where I'm lucky. Letting patients do it at home at all is kind of new and most of them have nurses to do all the work. Everyone else has to go to the hospital and it's expensive. Three times a week is a good minimum so that's all the insurance will cover. But I'm not just a scientist, I helped with the improvements to the machine. After I got them that new patent, they couldn't really say no. But I think it'll spread. It'll get easy enough that anyone who's reasonably bright and conscientious can do it. Assuming they can stand to stick themselves with needles."

"It's hard to believe you've been here doing this all alone," Nick said sadly. "I really wish we'd known."

"I wasn't entirely alone. I have the crew to call on. Stacey's always there for me, and my nurse. I don't always need him to do the dialysis but he comes over a lot, takes care of different things. Still, I'm glad you're here. I didn't know how—different it would be, with friends instead of employees. But then, I didn't know we were really still friends. You were happy before I got there; I was so sure you'd just forget me when I was gone."

"Never," Cody whispered, squeezing his arm gently. "Now tell me about this transplant. Will it cure you?"

"It should. But, Cody, it's a long shot. I don't want you thinking that just because we have the same blood type, that's all there is to it. There are a lot of tests for you to go through, some of them quite unpleasant, just to determine if you're healthy enough. Even if you are a good match, there might be some other factor that would prevent it. One of your own kidneys might be weak, or you might have an insignificant heart condition that would make you a bad candidate for surgery."

"That's not encouraging, Boz, I got to tell you."

"I'm sorry. But we're all getting older and these things happen." He finished his sandwich and smiled in a way that was almost crying. "I sure would like to stop eating this shit, though."

"Well, best case scenario, I'm a perfect match and in perfect health, which I think I am, and the surgery goes perfectly, then you'll be cured? This wasn't caused by diabetes or something that'll still be there?"

"No, it was nothing like that. I just got sick, right after I got here. It was winter and this climate, the rain and cold, it wasn't what I was used to. I caught a cold that turned into pneumonia and ended up on a respirator that led to a staph infection in my lungs. Antibiotics killed it, eventually, but they killed my kidneys, too. I did regular dialysis in the hospital at first but the hours were fucking up my job. Since I switched to the home system, my life's been pretty normal."

"Normal?" Nick scoffed and barely dodged a kick under the table.

"Why didn't we know you were sick?" Cody asked. "Staph in the lungs is serious. We should have been here."

"Baba came. I wouldn't let her call you. In fact, I lied to her and told her that you didn't want anything to do with me. Then, when I was delirious enough to want you, I was on the vent again and couldn't ask. So it was my own pride, again. I bet you didn't know I had so much," he added, grinning cheerfully.

"No, I guess we didn't. But we had our pride, too," Nick confessed, lowering his eyes. "People around the pier mentioned reading about you in the paper but we never would listen to what they said. I was so pissed at you for leaving the state and really closing the door on us, I didn't want to know."

"It's okay, guys, really. I would have done the same. I didn't come when Cody's mother died."

"Maybe, but she was gone two months before we told you," Cody shrugged. "The point is, if we'd known you were dying of pneumonia, we'd have come and you might have gotten that kidney two years sooner."

"Maybe. Although that would have meant I'd never get to work on the dialysis machine and that was important."

"Not to me," Cody said and Murray wisely dropped the matter.

"So you're here now. Did you think of something you wanted to do this afternoon?"

"I think we should stay here and talk," Nick said and Cody nodded agreement. "There's still a lot we need to straighten out, don't you think?"

"I suppose so." He drank his four ounces of water slowly, making it last in a way that was painful for his friends to watch. "But I don't want to talk about the transplant, okay? It's too uncertain right now to get your hopes up."

"Okay, but can I ask about the testing process? How long will it be before we know?"

"I'd think at least a week. If you can get in with Dr. Weller on Monday, he'll do the initial blood test and tell you about the rest of it. After that there are three or four days of tests and meetings with doctors and psychologists."

"Wait, psychologists? What's that for?"

"To make sure you know what you're doing, and that it's for the right reasons. And some people just aren't fit for the sacrifice. I know that's not you, you wouldn't be overcome with anxiety over a little thing like giving up an organ, but some people are. They just have to make sure."

"So if I pass all that next week, then what? Do they do it the next Monday? And who pays for my surgery? Do I need to get my insurance to preapprove it?"

"No, my insurance covers your expenses, too. It's just a little extra paperwork for Stacey. But the surgery will be at least two weeks away. We'll be laid up for two or three weeks at the best, so you need to get your things in order. You'll have to stay here all that time for follow up appointments and such, so I'd think you'd want to go home and come back a couple days before the surgery."

"No," he said firmly. "One of us should go and arrange for someone to watch the boat, probably have our mail forwarded, but we're staying here until the surgery, and after. We won't leave you to recover by yourself."

"I—I wouldn't be alone," he said, blushing faintly.

"Right, you have the hired crew," Nick said sarcastically. "Well, meaning no disrespect, but fuck them. We're not going to just disappear and leave you in the hands of paid help again."

"That's right. If you don't want us to stay here we can go to a hotel, but we'll be over here all the time anyway. Might just be easier to let me recuperate here, with you."

"Let Mark take care of us both?" Murray teased.

"Mark?"

"The nurse. I had a girl for a while but I was on different meds and I tended to faint at awkward moments. She was too small to pick me up and she always panicked so Stacey found someone bigger."

"Still no romance, though?" Cody asked with a wink.

"There's never been room for anyone in my heart but you," Murray said simply. "Now can we talk about something else?"

"I can't think of much else to say," Nick shrugged. "Can you, Cody?"

"Not really. Just, we're really not going anywhere. We never should have split up in the first place and we're not going to let it happen again."

"Won't that be hard, with my life here, and yours in King Harbor?"

"Well, that's something we can talk about if every other subject fails."

Rachel came in then to wash the lunch dishes, and they moved to the living room where she had already cleaned. Murray, tired from his sleepless night and half day of work, lay down on the sofa with his head in Nick's lap. Cody moved a chair closer and sat down, watching Murray struggle to stay awake. He took off his glasses, the ultimate surrender for such a hopelessly nearsighted man, and didn't ask where Nick put them.

"I could go back to Santa Clara," he said sleepily. "It's a long commute but I could stay there during the week."

"Or you could quit working and stay in King Harbor," Cody suggested, making him smile.

"Work from home, maybe. Like I used to."

"Yeah, you could do that. Murray, you want to be with us, don't you? You're not just saying what we want to hear?" Nick asked gently.

"I never should have gone. I should have been honest, but I was so scared. You know what I think now? Especially with all the Bonefish superstition?"

"What's that?"

"I think all of this was punishment for leaving. If I hadn't come here, I wouldn't have gotten the pneumonia or the staph and none of this would have happened. If I'd just been honest…"

"It's no good thinking like that," Nick said, cupping his sharp cheekbone in one hand. "We all could have done better, okay? And it's not too late."

"It cost too much. You lost the agency, Cody's getting ready to give up a kidney, all because I couldn't tell the truth."

"For the best of all possible reasons. You didn't want to risk splitting us up. It's too easy now to say you should have known better. The fact is, you couldn't know. And we didn't make it easy. I was so worried about making you uncomfortable, I don't know if I'd have been willing to talk about it anyway."

"Are you now?" Cody asked, surprising them both.

"Maybe, if Murray can stay awake."

"I don't think I can. Would you mind terribly if I went and took a nap?"

"Why don't you just stay here? We'll be quiet, right, Cody?"

"Sure."

Nick slid down a little, resting his head on the back of the couch and putting his feet in Cody's lap, providing a nice stomach for Murray to lay his cheek against. He closed his eyes, seeming to drift away at once, and then pulled himself back to say one thing.

"Don't let me turn on my left side, okay? It messes up my arm."

"Does that hurt?" Nick asked, unable to resist. "I mean, even when you don't lay on it?"

"Sometimes. But not as much as the chest catheter did. None of it is very comfortable, but almost none of it really hurts."

"Oh. Good," Nick said softly and stroked his short, stylish hair until the skinny man went to sleep.

***

That evening, after Murray ate his tasteless dinner and the guys got back from Burgerville, which would forever redefine fast food for them, they found themselves in his office, watching him work. It was so much like old times, so right somehow, that Cody found himself thinking he would even leave King Harbor for good to keep this feeling. Murray was tinkering with his circuit board, explaining the advances he'd made with the new robot design, while Nick flipped through a nephrology text that he had no hope of understanding. The diagrams were informative, though, and he understood that the surgery was going to be awful for them both. No wonder Murray didn't want to talk about it. Cody wouldn't, either, when he knew.

At a little past eight the doorbell rang but Murray hardly looked up from what he was doing.

"The only people who ever come here are the crew and they have keys," he explained. "That'll be Mark. He always announces himself so I'm not startled when he comes in."

He had hardly finished speaking when a tall, skinny man appeared at the office door. He was built a lot like Murray, and probably close in age, but his short sleeved t-shirt showed more muscle than Murray had ever had.

"_Jefe_," he said through a close lipped smile.

"_Esclavo_," Murray grinned back. _Master and slave_. Their little joke, though Mark was American and his only knowledge of Spanish came from a couple of summers working construction.

"I got your new scripts from the pharmacy. Do you need anything, or should I just put them away?"

"Put them away, and then I need you to look at my AVF. I hurt it last night."

"Fuck. Are you sure you're a genius, _jefe_?"

"They tell me so. Mark, these are my friends, Nick and Cody, from California. They're going to be staying for a while."

"Great, so I can get a night off once in a while?" he asked, shaking their hands briefly.

"Maybe. Depends on how messed up I am."

The close smile was a little broader this time.

"You can't fool me, _ jefe_," Mark said, half laughing. "You talk about these guys in your sleep. Couple days and you won't need me at all." He disappeared with the drugstore bag and returned a minute later to look at Murray's arm.

"He talks about us, huh?" Cody asked, enjoying Murray's embarrassment.

"Showed me some pictures of the boat and the chopper. Sounds like you all had some good times getting kidnapped and shot at and shit."

"Yeah, I guess we did."

"Probably better than this. You tore the skin, _jefe_. It's already getting infected. Why in hell didn't you go to the doctor this morning?"

"It didn't hurt much, I didn't realize…" Nick and Cody were joining Mark in his stern disapproval and he trailed off.

"It's like you're new at this or something. You wanted to go to work so you blew it off, right? And then you wanted to hang out with your friends, and you figured it would just get better. Well, I hope it was fun, because now we have to go."

"Go where?" Nick asked, getting to his feet.

"Hospital. Kind of a duh, inn't it?" he said, the Texan coming out in his exasperated tone. "Murray, you want your coat?"

"If you say so," he sighed, leaving it open to interpretation which question he was answering.

"I think everybody says so," Cody told him. "If you get an infection it might delay your transplant."

"You're getting a transplant?" Mark asked, leading him by the wrist as if afraid Murray would break away and run back to his computer.

"Maybe," he said, at the same time Nick and Cody said, "Yes."

"Swell. Coat or sweater?"

It was after dark and Murray chose the coat. Mark held it so he could slip his right arm into the sleeve, then zipped it high enough so it wouldn't fall off his left shoulder. The fact that he didn't want to put his left arm in the sleeve told everyone how much it hurt and Nick was furious at himself for not noticing. He wanted to be furious at Murray, too, but it was too soon.

"You guys coming?" Mark asked, opening the door. "We're going up to Portland, and it'll be late."

"We're coming. Should we ride with you?"

"Please," Murray said humbly. "We'll take my car. Mark, if you want to leave me there, I'll pay for a cab."

"We'll see how late it gets." He locked the door and herded everyone over to Murray's luxurious company car. Nick and Cody got into the back, watching the competent way this Mark did their old job. But times had changed, and he was better at it. He backed out into the street, put the car in drive and pulled the smallest cell phone they'd ever seen from his pocket. He dialed without looking and spoke shortly.

"Dr. Weller, it's Mark Ryan. I'm bringing Murray Bozinsky in. His AVF's infected again. No, no fever. No, I think it must have happened last night. We're on the road now so twenty-five, thirty minutes. Right, bye." He pressed END, then dialed again.

"Stacey, it's Mark. No, he's okay, but we're going up to the hospital. Here, he wants to talk to you." Murray was making anxious gestures and Mark handed the phone over.

"I'm fine, he's overreacting," Murray said at once. "No, I just scratched it. I don't know, because I always scratch it. It's a hole in my arm and it itches." He listened a moment and then laughed, a more relaxed sound. "I'll call you in the morning and let you know where I am. And tell Rachel not to bother coming in tomorrow. Don't tell Denise anything; I don't need any grief from her, too." He laughed again and Cody, who was sitting behind him, laid a hand on his shoulder. "Yes, of course. Everything's fine. Do you want to talk to Mark again? All right. Goodnight, Stacey." He hung up and laid the phone of the seat between them.

"Who's Denise?" Cody asked, sliding his finger up Murray's neck.

"The dietician. I promise you, guys, the only people who care about me are being paid."

"This guy," Mark said, shaking his head. "You'd think he didn't have a friend in the world."

"No, I have a couple. But Denise isn't one of them. I really piss her off."

"How's that?" Cody asked, still stroking his neck. "I thought you were a really good sport, eating that crap she makes."

"Oh, I'm about the best patient she could ask for." Mark shot him a look and he shrugged. "Maybe I'm not such a great nursing patient, but I'm a dietician's wet dream. The thing is, she wanted me to tutor her son in math and computers. I tried, I really did, but he's an unmotivated fool whose big ambition in life is to turn eighteen so he can buy his own cigarettes. He's fifteen years old and not only can he not multiply double digits on paper, he doesn't even want to."

"You sound bitter," Nick remarked.

"He kept calling me short bus. Me. I don't need that right now, you know?"

"No one needs that," Mark snorted. "Kid was a total waste of time. I caught him stealing pain meds, this was right after Murray had the first fistula surgery, and we almost fired Denise. She's been great with his meals but she still hates us both."

"Why don't you replace her, then?"

"Because she's the best. Everyone who works with Murray is the best."

Cody squeezed Murray's neck gently and withdrew his hand, trading a look with Nick. He was either much sicker or much more important than they'd thought. Maybe both.

Murray's doctor met them in the emergency room and whisked them into a curtained cubicle. Murray took off his shirt without being told and let Mark put a gown on him, but kept his pants on. He and Weller had been through this a few times and their compromises were all agreed on long ago. Cody and Nick, who hadn't been in this situation with Murray for years, hung back against the curtain out of the way. It was Mark who stayed close, making private jokes and saying comforting things, all while he helped drain the small abscess and dress the wound.

"I want to put you on IV antibiotics for the night and send you home with a prescription. Can Mark stay or will you need a room?"

"I can stay." Mark was contracted through the hospital and had privileges there. Without him, Murray would fall into the hands of the regular staff and everyone tried to avoid that. "We need to get him well for that transplant."

"What transplant's that?" Dr. Weller asked quickly. Mark threw a surprised look at Murray, who blushed unaccountably.

"I was going to call you on Monday. My friends here," he gestured to them to come closer, "want to be tested for matching. Cody thinks he's got a chance."

"I thought you'd ruled out a live donor. You were quite sure you didn't want to pursue that."

"I was," Murray said bluntly. "Because I was hiding it from Cody. Now that he knows, it doesn't matter. I can't stop him from saving my life if he wants to."

"I've done it enough other times." Cody grinned and introduced himself to the doctor.

"Well, this is a surprise. I've heard of you, of course, but I had the idea you both were in the distant past. If I'd known you were around, I'd have called you in a long time ago."

"We live in California," Nick said. "And if he'd ever told us, we'd have come."

"Sounds like you all have a lot to discuss with the social worker. But we can take the blood now and probably let you know tomorrow if you're an antigen match."

"Great," Cody said at once. "The sooner the better."

"What about the social worker?" Nick asked. "I still don't understand that part."

"We need to be sure that, should one of you match, you're really psychologically prepared. It's a big decision."

"The decision is already made."

"Well, one step at a time. Mark, do you want to do the draw?"

He gave Cody a questioning look and Murray encouraged his friend with a nod.

"He's very good, Cody. You hardly feel a thing."

"Mr. Allen, if you can't handle a blood draw, you can't be an organ donor," the doctor said, half joking.

"No, it's fine. Mark's fine." He was thinking about Murray sticking those needles in his own arm every other day. If Murray could do that, Cody could certainly do this. Someone brought a kit and Mark put on a pair of gloves. Cody kept his eyes on Murray, his heart full of hope, and didn't flinch when the needle pierced his skin.

"Can I use the AVF tomorrow night or do I need a new access?" Murray asked the doctor.

Weller exchanged a look with Mark, who shook his head.

"It's like you're new," he muttered and Murray sighed.

"You'll need a catheter for tomorrow. It's just for a few days, until we're sure this infection is gone, so I think we'll just put it in your chest. You like that better than the neck, don't you?"

"Doesn't everyone?"

"You'd be surprised. And I want to put in an access for the antibiotics, too. Upper arm, I think."

"Why do I need an access? Can't you just run it in my forearm overnight?"

"I could, but if the infection doesn't retreat right away, you'll need more antibiotics and your veins will be harder to find. Now, would you be more comfortable in bed?"

"No, I'm fine. I—I might to take my shoes off."

Mark moved to do so but Nick beat him to it. He might be a nurse, but Nick had far more experience making Murray comfortable. Mark got a blanket for him while the doctor took Cody's blood to the lab himself. He didn't have much faith in this stranger appearing out of nowhere, a non-relative who had almost no chance of matching in any meaningful way, but it was the first time he'd seen Murray show an interest in anything beyond maintaining the status quo. It was the first time he'd ever talked about a cure.


	4. Death of a Bonefish

Mark drove them all home in the morning, Murray miserably uncomfortable with two catheters in his body. He ate his boring breakfast and headed for bed, for the first time allowing Nick and Cody into his bedroom. It was plainly decorated but on the wall, on the right side of the bed where he could see it without lying on his access arm, hung an eighteen photo frame full of pictures of home. Of Nick and Cody, aboard the _Riptide_, gathered around _Mimi_, hoisting drinks at Straightaway's. The only other photos in the room were of Melba and their parents. There were a lot of books and, on top of one precarious stack, the model Mimi radio. It looked like a place for sleeping and not much else. The office was where he lived.

"You guys should get some sleep, too," he said, unbuttoning his shirt. "No one's scheduled to come over today."

"Should you be alone, Boz?"

"You're not far away. And Stacey would like to come by this afternoon, if you don't mind."

"I thought no one was on the schedule," Cody said cautiously.

"She wants to talk about her brother. I think, after tomorrow, things are going to get really busy and I hate to make her wait. She's done a lot for me." He pulled on his pajama top and buttoned it swiftly. "And I guess her brother has, too. It's up to you, of course. I know these kinds of memories are hard and you don't want to think about it, but it would mean so much to her." He had his back to them, sliding down his jeans, and Cody flicked his eyes at Nick, who nodded.

"Sure. But let us stay here with you," Cody said. "You're looking kind of shaky and I—I don't think you should be alone."

"If you want." He put on his pajama pants and got into bed. Nick and Cody, moving in unison, as if they'd planned it, took off their shoes got in beside him, nudging him to the middle. Laughing, he turned on his right side and Cody hugged him from behind. Nick took his left arm and held it protectively across his chest, telling him it was to keep him from pulling the bandage off his fistula. Murray went to sleep feeling safer and more content than he had in years.

***

Four hours later, Stacey was lying across the foot of the bed, listening to war stories and almost enjoying herself. The camaraderie and chemistry between the three men was a beautiful thing and she felt bad for her boss, knowing how he had denied it to himself for so long. Now, watching him lie there with his head on Nick's chest, holding Cody's hand on his hip, she thought he looked almost healthy. Certainly happier than she'd ever seen him, and that didn't mean since he got sick. Stacey had worked with him for two months before he even caught the cold that was still trying to kill him, and she had never seen him really happy.

For an hour, they'd been telling her good stories about her brother, the skinny little Bonefish Eddie. How he'd collected bugs to study in camp and once unknowingly brought back a deadly scorpion that escaped in the mess tent and caused lunch to be cancelled. Some of the guys had repaid him with a large hairy spider in his bed, but Bonefish kept it as a pet and tormented them with it for a week before it mysteriously disappeared. Cody had taken it but denied it, letting everyone think it was loose in the barracks. That put a stop to the bug wars, but not Eddie's other games. Nothing could stop the shortsheeted beds, the glue in the toothpaste tubes or the oatmeal in the boots on inspection day.

But after an hour of laughter, she wanted to hear the rest. She wanted to know why her mother had a medal and a folded flag but not the body of her oldest son. Cody cleared his throat and Nick looked away, but Murray reached out and took her hand. He could feel the tremble but he also felt the strength. She'd been waiting over twenty years for this and she was ready. Murray hoped Cody was, too.

"We lost a squad," Nick said first. "Ten guys went down in the jungle and we were sent to bring them back. We stripped our slick down to the deck and took five guys to bring back those ten. I was flying and a guy named Andrew Carnegie was my co-pilot. He was still in training but we were short and I was good. We took Cody and Bonefish and a kid named Mitch Keller. He was a twitchy little guy, remember him, Cody?"

"Yeah, we called him Itch. He was a good kid, but he had some nervous thing where he was always scratching himself, like a junkie does."

"So what happened?" Stacey asked quietly.

The guys traded another look and Cody took over.

"Charlie was laying for us. Of the ten guys we were supposed to pick up, seven were still alive. Nick set us down and I stayed aboard, wired up so I could tell him what was going on. Eddie and Mitch got down to help the wounded men and as soon as they were all in the clearing, Charlie opened up. They all started running, I was pulling them in as fast as I could…" He trailed off and cleared his throat, rubbing his eyes to push back angry tears.

"There was a guy shot in the back and Mitch was pushing him up to me. I remember that guy, Hammond, he was crying for his wife and Mitch was telling him to shut the fuck up or he'd kill him himself. I got Hammond on board and grabbed Mitch and that was when I saw Eddie coming. He was pushing this guy ahead of him, an older guy with a bad ankle, and I grabbed him next. That guy was strong. He hauled himself up and I reached for Eddie when he was six, seven feet out. Everyone was yelling at him, shouting his name—they didn't know him, they picked it up from me and Mitch right there. We were yelling and I was reaching as far as I could, leaning out the door, and—and he got hit. He grabbed his throat—there was blood everywhere…" Cody rubbed his eyes again and then squeezed Murray's hip for courage. No one wanted to keep inflicting this on Stacey, but she was riveted.

"Then what happened?" she whispered, eyes wide and tearless.

"He went to his knees but he kept reaching for my hand. I almost jumped out after him, I really did, but someone was holding me back and then Charlie was in the clearing. Bullets were punching through the side of the bird and one hit Eddie in the back. He fell forward and we lifted off and that was that."

"They told us he died a hero," Stacey said.

"He did. He went out in a war zone and helped round up seven men. They all lived, too, although Hammond ended up partially paralyzed. I tried, though. I would have gone for him if they'd let me."

"It sounds like you never would have made it back," Stacey said. "But I'm glad you would have tried. I feel like he died seeing a friendly face, at least. Didn't he?"

"I considered him a friend," Cody said quietly. "I thought about writing his family, I knew he mentioned me in a couple letters, but it was so hard. I did it for a few guys and then I just couldn't anymore. It felt like it was costing me more than it was giving them."

"I hope you don't feel like that now. This has been a great gift to me. I remember him mentioning a friend named Allen but he never really used first names. Nick's was the only one I ever knew, because of that last letter from the CO." She paused and they were silent, feeling she had more to say. "Was he scared? When you first went out there, was he afraid?"

"I never saw Bonefish scared of anything. He was a little subdued when we landed, gathering himself to fight, but he didn't look scared."

"What about at the end? What was on his face when he died?"

"Confusion, I think," Cody said slowly. "He kept reaching for me and his eyes were maybe—pleading a little, like Murray's when he wants the last fudgesicle, and then he was just—confused. _I_ was scared, and I'm sorry that that's probably the last thing he saw."

"I don't think that matters anymore," Stacey said, wiping her eyes with a tissue. "He's all right now. This is just about us."

Cody smiled and leaned forward to pat her knee.

"He was never scared, Stacey. He was enthusiastic and funny and everyone liked him."

"I bet they called him a geek behind his back," Murray muttered. The fudgesicle line had gotten to him.

"Sometimes to his face, too, but he didn't seem to mind. I think he knew it was in fun. He really was like you, Boz. Not quite as brilliant, maybe, but he had your heart."

"He's right," Stacey said, smiling through tears. "I was only five the last time I saw him but we had so many letters and a ton of home movies from before I was even born—I grew up knowing him. It's funny, when I go home to the Bahamas to visit family, I still turn and look when I hear someone say Bonefish. And everyone down there is called Bonefish. You hear it a thousand times a day."

"Did he grow up there?" Cody asked. "He told us he was from Florida."

"He was born in Bimini when Dad was a charter captain. Bonefish Dave. They moved to Florida when Eddie was twelve, but he wanted to go back. After the war, he was going to get a boat and go back. He thought the charter thing would work out better without a wife and family to support."

"Yeah, we used to talk about boats. A couple hours in a chopper, and the ocean started to sound real safe. I told him I was going to have a boat some day, too, and he never laughed at me, like everyone else did."

"I never laughed, I just said it was stupid," Nick put in.

"And you've been living on it how long?"

"Let's not fight about it now," Murray said with a wink for Stacey. She smiled, then grew somber again.

"Cody, did you ever think about him after that? Did you really just remember him last week, after all this time?"

"No, I thought about him sometimes, the way I think about all those guys. This is different, the dreams and the—fear. I've never felt that about anyone besides Nick and Murray."

"I've prayed to Eddie since he died," she whispered. "Catholics do that, you know. We ask the cloud of witnesses for help."

"Cloud of—?" Cody began and Murray said he'd explain it later. It was maybe the first time he'd ever gotten to say that to one of them.

"Watching Murray get sicker, I've prayed for him nonstop. I kept asking Eddie to put in a word for him, but he went and did it himself."

"That's a lot of intense praying for your boss," Nick observed.

"He's worth it. After this is done, after he's had his transplant and gone back to California where he belongs," she said, making Murray blush, "I'm going to take my savings and go to Bimini. I'm going to run the slickest tourist charter on the island and they'll all call me Bonefish Stacey."

"Be sure to find yourself an all female crew," Cody told her.

"I intend to. I didn't spend two years working with Dr. Murray Bozinsky for nothing."

***

Stacey was convinced to stay for supper but insisted on doing all the work. She had no compunction about feeding his friends steak while Murray ate something that resembled oatmeal, only with more texture and less taste. He didn't care and the effort of hiding the fact that other people ate real food only made him feel more alienated. It was the sort of thing the guys used to know and, hopefully, would one day remember. If he was going to take Cody's kidney, and after today's conversation he felt certain that he was, then he intended to stay close and spend the rest of his life paying them back. It would be easier to do that if they could somehow treat him normally again. But sitting at the table, eating his low sodium, paper maché-like food substance, he thought about how they'd shared his bed that afternoon and wondered what normal was. He'd be satisfied if it was the way things were on the boat in nineteen eighty-five. But if there was a chance it might include kisses and cuddles and someone warm to sleep beside—well, Murray hardly dared hope for that and he didn't know how to ask.

Murray finished eating and was counting down the hour until he could begin his dialysis, when Nick asked why the limit. It was probably in the textbook but he hadn't been able to read much of it before becoming terminally bored.

"I told you, my blood pressure drops."

"Yeah, but you're sitting down, right? Doesn't that help?"

"It's like this," Murray said, a little gleam in his eye over the prospect of getting to explain something. "The body diverts blood to the stomach when you eat, to aid digestion. That's why some people believe eating standing up, or walking around afterword, makes them digest better. They think speeding their circulation helps. And it might, I suppose. But if you're doing that, diverting blood into the gut, while at the same time you've diverting a pint or two outside your body, you get more than a little light headed. The first thing that happens, at least it did the one time I tried it, is you throw up. The second thing that happens, often before you're done with the first thing, is you faint. I did that, too, and I was lucky Mark was here to clear my mouth and preserve my airway. People have been known to die from it, sometimes right in the hospital."

"That's—that's awful," Cody said, glad he was almost done with his steak.

"There's a big controversy over it. Diabetics, especially, want to eat during dialysis because it takes so long. When I did it in the hospital that was the thing that bothered me most. All those cranky old people bitching about their blood sugar until they got a cookie, and then puking all over themselves. I notice that I get fewer infections doing it here, by myself, and I'm sure the lack of vomit contamination is a factor."

"Please tell me you're not going to study that," Stacey laughed.

"No, I guess not. But it is interesting. My first nephrologist was of the school of thought that said all treatment had to be done in the hospital. But he was at the hospital where I got the staph and fried my kidneys so I had to question his logic. I met Dr. Weller through a colleague at Intel and he turned out to be much more what I wanted. Except for things like last night, we get along very well."

"I think he forgave you," Cody said.

"He was so glad I brought actual potential donors, he would have forgiven me if I'd drunk a quart of whiskey and cut my wrist."

"Just as well you didn't," Nick said dryly. Cody didn't know what to say, and then the doorbell rang, saving them all.

"Hey, Mark, are you on the schedule?" Murray asked, glancing automatically toward the calendar on the fridge.

"No, I just came by to check your AVF and make sure you were good to go for tonight." He said hello to everyone, pulled up a chair and picked a cherry tomato out of the salad with his fingers. "Also, Dr. Weller called and asked me to give you a message."

"He called you?"

"He didn't think you'd want to hear it over the phone."

"Oh?" That always meant bad news and Murray's heart sank painfully.

"Yeah, he said to send Cody to his office in the morning for the second round of tests."

"The—the second round?" Cody asked, puzzled. He had also been steeled for the worst and couldn't see how this fit.

"That's what he said. You scored a negative serum crossmatch and five out of six antigens. Couldn't have asked for more if you were brothers."

"You're kidding," Cody cried. "So we go right into the vetting now?"

"That's right. Weller will have a lot of information for you tomorrow, and on Tuesday you'll start the testing. Better think it over, though. It's gonna fuck up your diet almost as bad as Murray's."

Murray looked absurdly guilty and everyone laughed. Then Cody was leaning over to hug him and Stacey burst into tears. At that moment, she knew to a certainty that her brother hadn't died in vain.

Mark gave them a few minutes to celebrate and then took Murray to his office before they had time to really think about it and get scared.

"I can do this, you don't have to stay," Murray said, already unbuttoning his shirt the expose the chest port.

"Weller asked me to. Wants me to look at your arm, too." He unwrapped it swiftly and turned Murray's arm out so the wound was directly under the light.

"See, it's all right."

"You're one lucky bastard," Mark said, with that same tight lipped smile. "You're going to have to be a lot more careful now. You want to assume it's all gonna go through and that means you don't have time to get sick again. I can promise you, Weller's already thinking of a date and writing it down in pencil, and anything that goes wrong is gonna bitch up his plan."

"Yeah," Murray said slowly. He relaxed into his chair, not protesting when Mark took over the task of starting his dialysis. The touch of competent hands in latex gloves made him feel safer, and a little stupid for being so independent. What if he'd given himself an infection, or passed out and choked alone, before this day came? That had actually been his intention, that or something very like it, and now he was terrified by how easily he'd given up. "I should have known," he said softly.

"What's that, _jefe_?"

"I was so stupid. I knew he'd come, I knew we'd be best friends again in about five minutes, and I didn't call. I spent five years trying not to think about them and it turns out I never thought about anything else. I was willing to die for that, and it's so stupid."

"No shit," Mark said, grinning tightly. He always knew how far he could push a patient and Murray was one of his favorites.

"Thanks for your support."

Mark checked the machine one last time and then sat down on the floor in front of Murray.

"You're lucky that not too many people know you, because you don't lie for shit. You have pictures of those guys in your bedroom, here in your office, on your desk at work—I bet Stacey's the closest thing to a friend you have besides them. Two guys you've been running from for five years, and anyone can tell you're in love with them."

"Anyone?"

"I think I was here a whole three days before I figured it out. Although one of the guys called the second day and I saw you crying after, so that was kind of a giveaway. Stacey says it took her two days, but she's a girl, and they know this shit."

"That's it, you're all fired," Murray sighed, closing his eyes. "Tell Stacey on your way out."

Mark had been getting fired at least twice a month for over a year and didn't get up.

"Denise was the slowest. Took her almost a month. And by the way, that's the real reason she doesn't like you. She thought if you hit it off with her kid, you'd ask her out and she'd be Mrs. Bozinsky in time to inherit your fortune."

"You're making that up."

"Her last husband was an eighty year old stroke victim. She wouldn't even be doing this job but his kids fought the will and got most of the money. You're young and childless. You were perfect, but you're in love with a couple of California beach boys who probably don't even care about your money."

"Can I at least fire her?"

"I'd wait until after the surgery. Think about it, Murray. Pretty soon you won't need any of us at all."

"I'll miss you," he whispered, trying to smile.

"Truth is, I'll miss you, too. But I'll see you in the funny pages, right?"

"On the cover of _Byte_," Murray laughed.

"My favorite rag. Tell you what. After the surgery, you can dump Denise and I'll take over your meals. It won't be nearly as much work then."

"How long before I lose you?"

"Three, four months, I guess. But you _are_ going back to Redondo, aren't you?"

"I don't know. I think I want to. If they'll have me."

"Are you blind or just retarded?"

"Well, I'm told that I'm overpaid," Murray grinned. In truth, he considered Mark a closer friend than Stacey. There was a lot of Nick in him.

"They wouldn't leave without you. I figured that out the first day they were here and I was still behind Stacey."

"Yeah, she _is_ a girl. Gosh, I can't let them go. But I hate the idea of leaving here. Except the weather, the weather sucks. But I love my job. I never had this kind of space on the boat. But you're right, they won't leave me, and Cody can't live in a place like this. He needs to be on the water."

"He could build an ark. Last year we could have used it."

"You should see his boat. The pictures don't do it justice. I miss it so much, Mark. The sun, the ocean, the way the timbers creak and the waves slap against the hull. They never meant for me to move in back in '84 but once I was there, they couldn't get me out. I never asked to visit because I knew I wouldn't be able to leave again."

"We didn't want you to," Cody said from the doorway. Startled, Murray sat up too fast, started to rise, and grabbed his head. Mark was up in a second, putting his hands on Murray's shoulders and pushing him back down. He kicked the handle on the recliner with one foot and laid Murray out flat, so swiftly that no one was quite sure what had happened.

"What's going on?" Nick cried, pushing past Cody and then freezing in the middle of the room.

"Nothing, it's okay," Mark said, but he was adding a pillow to the cushion under Murray's feet.

"It really is okay," Stacey told them, staying back by the door. She'd seen this a couple of times before. "He tried to get up and dropped his pressure. He'll be fine in a minute."

"You guys have to stop eavesdropping," Murray said faintly. "You scared the hell out of me."

"Sorry." Cody inched over to the chair, close enough to see Murray's face, and was relieved that he looked okay. Pale, but okay. "We weren't really. We were just coming to see how you were doing, Stacey wanted to say goodnight, and I couldn't help overhearing that last thing you said. About us not meaning for you to move in."

Murray nodded, eyes closed, wishing he'd locked the door. But he was always locking doors and they kept getting through anyway.

"I guess we thought you'd live somewhere else and just work with us, but after a couple weeks, it was like you belonged. It was hard to remember what it was even like before. And we didn't invite you to visit because—well, we didn't think you'd want to. And it would have hurt too much when you left. I don't think we could have survived you leaving again."

"Mark, can I sit up now?" he asked, feeling unequal to responding.

"Sure, real slow." Mark slid an arm behind Murray's shoulders and raised him up. "Cody, come here, would you?"

"What can I do?"

"Climb into the chair and hold him up. I don't want to put his feet down yet."

"You're overreacting," Murray said as Cody slid into the chair behind him and held him close.

"Better safe than sorry, _jefe_. It's your own fault, anyway. You know you gotta stay in the chair for a reason."

"Anyway, this is okay, isn't it?" Cody whispered.

"Yeah, it's okay," Murray said shyly, glancing at Nick for confirmation. Nick's smile told him it was just fine.


	5. All I Want is This

Mark stayed until the dialysis was finished, but he sat at the desk and played Minesweeper on the computer, refusing to overhear what was said. There was a lot of whispering and maybe some kissing, but all of that was none of his business. He was just there to unhook the lines and clean up after.

"You still look a little pale, Murray. Stay here and I'll get you something to eat," he said when it was over. Murray was making motions as if to rise and Cody held him back until he submitted.

"Nothing dry, huh? I don't want to drink tonight."

"No problem." He left the room and Nick asked Murray why he didn't want to drink. The more they talked about it, the more curious everyone became and the more informed they wanted to be. It was perfect for a man who liked explaining as much as Murray did.

"I just got all the water and crap out of my blood. This right now is my dry weight, the cleanest I'm going to be until my next session. It feels good and the less I drink, the longer I can prolong that feeling."

"But you need to drink, don't you?"

"Sure. Well, I need water. Drinking straight liquid will weigh me down faster than processing wet food."

"But you trade off, right?" Nick pressed. "You're not depriving yourself."

"Oh, yes, of course. Remember, I'm not in charge of any of this. Mark will bring the right thing and it'll be fine."

"What's the right thing?" Cody asked.

"Yogurt, probably, or an orange. If I wanted water, it would be low sodium graham crackers."

"After the surgery, will that stop? The low sodium, no water thing?"

"Hopefully. I understand it could take two or three months to get up to full function and I'd be restricted until that happens. If it happens. It's not a guarantee, you know."

"But best case scenario?" Cody asked. He really wanted to give Murray more than life. He wanted to give him the life he used to have.

"Best case, sure. I could be eating like a normal person in a couple of weeks. So long as normal means healthy and alcohol free."

"Yeah? No alcohol at all?"

"Well, not much. It's never really agreed with me anyway. It won't be that hard, especially after the crap I've been eating. I think it's all a combination of paper pulp waste and petroleum byproducts approved for use on humans, probably due to bribery at high levels of the FDA."

"But there's yogurt," Nick said, as if that made up for anything.

"Low sugar, low fat, low sodium, and it only comes in three flavors, one of which I'm allergic to."

"And you could have picked up the phone any time," Cody said, shaking his head.

"Keep rubbing it in," Murray said, laughing as Cody's mustache tickled his neck. "Don't you think I feel bad enough? And I haven't even eaten the yogurt yet."

They were still teasing each other in that old, harmless way when Mark came back with a bowl of yellowish goo.

"What flavor is that?" Cody asked, taking the bowl and sniffing it suspiciously. It didn't smell like anything he knew of.

"Lemon. There's also strawberry, sort of. And kiwi banana, but that one makes my throat close up."

"Really? You used to eat kiwis and bananas all the time."

"Yeah, it's either a combination of the two, or something in the artificial flavoring. Whatever it is, it causes anaphylaxis." He ate most of the yogurt and then said he wanted to go to bed. Working late no longer seemed as important as it had.

Mark took the bowl away, reminded Cody that he was picking him up at seven-thirty, and let himself out.

"I'm going in to work tomorrow," Murray said as he undressed in his bedroom. He kept his back to his friends but felt their eyes on him. It was impossible to tell what they were thinking, but he didn't care. "Nick, you should probably go to the hospital, too."

"Is Cody going to need moral support already?"

"No, but you'll learn a lot. It's scary, at first, but the more you learn now, the less scary it'll be later. I'd go but—well, you need to be free to change your mind," he said quietly, sliding into bed.

"Murray, I'm not changing my mind."

"You have to be free. Keep your mind open, hear what Weller has to say, and don't think about me. Think about if you can live with what I'm asking you to do."

"You never asked. I offered, and I'm not changing my mind."

"Cody, stop arguing. It's part of the process. You have to talk to people without me or they won't approve it."

"All right," Nick interrupted, before they could really get going. "I'll go with Cody and we'll keep an open mind. I think we might have one between us."

"Good, thank you," he said, finally smiling.

"You look pretty tired. You want us to leave you alone?" Nick asked, curious what he'd say.

"I'm going to go to sleep no matter what. You know, things are going to change a lot if this goes through. If you want to take long showers or get drunk or have kinky sex, you'd better get it in while you can."

"Are you telling me there's no more long showers or kinky sex after?"

"Not right away. I was kidding about the drinking, though. You can't do that before, either."

"Say, Murray," Cody said slowly, sitting down on the bed, "what about the sex part?"

"What about it?"

"Well, will having one kidney make any difference?"

"To you? No, it shouldn't. Not unless there's some terrible complication during surgery, in which case that'll probably be the least of your worries."

"Comforting," Cody muttered, but Nick had heard something else.

"What do you mean, to him? Will it make a difference for you?"

"I hope so. I—I've been impotent for a long time now. Not that it matters all that much; I wasn't looking for a lover. But Weller thinks it's at least partly psychological."

"Psychological, huh?" Cody repeated, laying a hand on his leg.

"Yes, well, sex is mostly mental anyway. Being alone so much, being afraid, it kind of killed the urge. I don't really care anymore, but Weller thinks it might come back if I get a good kidney. And if I start caring."

"What would it take to make you care?" Cody asked softly.

"I don't know. Somebody to care about would be a good start. But not now."

"No?" He was stroking Murray's leg through the blanket, making the skinny man tingle in a way he'd almost forgotten.

"No. Not when everyone's making life and death decisions. It's a bad time to—complicate relationships."

"Okay, you might have something there. But I'm not taking it as a no, and neither is Nick. You went through a lot because of us and we're not forgetting it."

"You don't owe me anything."

"That's right," Nick agreed. "No one owes anyone anything. It's all about what everybody wants. You want us, we want you. It's very simple."

"Not so simple when one of us could be dead in a couple weeks. Do you want to watch me die as a lover or a friend?"

"I'm not watching you die at all. You're gonna get better," Nick said firmly. "You're gonna get well, and Cody will be fine. He's strong and healthy, he can take a little operation."

"I hope it works out that way," Murray shrugged. "But you said it's about what we want and that's what I want. For you to be my friends."

"Sounds like you've thought it over," Cody said, squeezing his bony thigh.

"Just every minute, waking and sleeping, since you got here. I love you both very much and I think you should go to bed."

"If that's what you want." Cody leaned down and kissed him on the cheek, brushing a gentle hand through his hair. Then he got up and Nick kissed Murray, too.

"We'll see you at breakfast," Nick said and he nodded, blushing. Suddenly Murray was sure he was doing the wrong thing. He should ask them to stay before it was too late. And then it was. They went out, closing the door behind them.

Lying in bed together, in the guest room of Murray's too-tidy house, Cody extracted a promise from his lover.

"I know this is a simple thing, I know the risks are minimal and my complete recovery is virtually guaranteed," he said, putting his hand over Nick's mouth to stop him from interrupting, "but just in case, I need you to do something." He moved his hand long enough to hear Nick start to argue and then silenced him again.

"I know, I just said it would be fine, remember? So you can agree to whatever I ask without it being a big deal, right?"

Nick nodded and Cody's hand slid up his cheek and into his hair.

"All right. If something does go wrong, if, God forbid, I don't get through this, and Murray does, promise me you won't blame him. Promise you'll take care of him, so it won't be for nothing."

"Cody, I can't even think about that. I can't lose you."

"Don't think about it, just say you will. Say you won't let him feel guilty."

"I don't think I could stop him. But I'll do my best. I won't let him go again. Happy?"

"Very. Not as happy as I will be when I nail you in the shower tomorrow, but close."

"You could just do it now, you know," Nick wheedled. "No sense missing an opportunity."

"I don't know, you're pretty loud. Do you think Murray likes to listen or would it hurt his feelings?"

"Hard telling. All right, shower it is. But we're getting up early." In truth, Nick wasn't as young as he liked to think he was and he didn't much mind a good night's sleep. Even at home, they tended to make love in the morning while they were both fresh. It was easier to pretend they were still kids then, but Nick had noticed that not much else got done that day.

"I wonder if Murray will want to make up for lost time," he said sleepily and Cody laughed.

"If he does, he can be on top."

"Just what I was thinking. He was a real geek back then but I always thought he was kind of sexy. I used to worry about you finding out, getting jealous."

"He's still a geek," Cody said. "Just a better dressed one. And he's still sexy, too. I was afraid you'd be pissed if you knew I noticed."

"We wasted a lot of time, didn't we?"

"But we won't waste any more. Even if it means giving up the boat, even if we have to live here, we won't waste any more time."

"We won't give up the boat. People live on them in Oregon. I asked around."

"No way. On one of these freezing rivers with the fog and the floods? I'd rather put my boat in storage and visit her on vacations."

"I'd sure hate to leave King Harbor," Nick said, thinking about the fog and floods. It was June and the mornings still had a decided chill that at home was gone in early March. "But I'm not leaving him again. Bonefish would probably start haunting us both."

Nick could laugh because he wasn't the one who had the dreams. To Cody, there was nothing at all funny about Bonefish Eddie.

***

The week flew by, with Nick and Cody going up to the University hospital every day for more tests, while Murray worked at a flurried pace to finish up his project. He started staying late every day, eating his wood pulp byproducts at his desk, and going home every other day just in time for dialysis. On non-dialysis days, he worked even later. Nick and Cody would wait up for him, lecture him gently about working too hard, and then see him off to bed where he would lie awake until one of them came to check on him, usually two or three hours later. They would talk for a while and Murray would fall asleep in the arms of whoever's turn it was. On the day they settled on a transplant date, it was Cody's.

"Nick will be worried if he wakes up and you're gone," Murray said, snuggling gratefully against his chest.

"He'll know where I am. He might even come join us. Or, we could just all go to sleep in here in the first place."

"You could, but you need your alone time."

"We're alone all day."

"You're with Mark or Rachel all day. I don't want you feeling like you need to sneak around. I'm an adult, I know what you do."

"And yet you don't want to do it with us."

"No, I do. But I want to be healthy enough to participate. I'm lucky, really, that I'm not any sicker, but I don't feel good. Right now I just really like knowing that I'd be welcome. I like _this_."

"That's good, because at our age, there's a lot more of _this_ than anything else."

"I missed out on a lot."

"We'll make it up to you."

"Hey, give me a kidney and we'll call it even."

Two and a half weeks later, he did.

***

Cody went into surgery first, while Nick sat with Murray. They were both smiling, trying to laugh and pretend that their best friend wasn't at that moment preparing to be cut in half. But Murray found himself focusing on that to keep from thinking about what was going to happen to him when it was his turn. He wished Melba was there. She was in town and he'd seen her a few days ago, but then she came down with a cold and didn't dare get near any of them. There were a few tense days while they waited to see if anyone had been exposed, and Murray found himself half hoping one of them had. He didn't think he'd object too much to putting it off just a little longer. But Cody was eager to get it over with and Murray held his peace.

"Remember how hard it used to be?" Nick asked. Murray tried to remember if they'd been talking about anything and came up empty.

"What was hard?"

"This. Getting to see each other in the hospital. It was all about visiting hours and family only, instead of what was good for the patient."

"They're still pretty strict about family. Which is why I said you were. Weller knows better, but he loves defying authority."

"Good for him. Cody and I did the paperwork a couple years ago so we'd have power of attorney for each other. After his mom died, there wasn't any family left anyway."

"I'm glad you thought of that. If anything should go wrong for me…" he said slowly. Nick tried to cut him off and Murray held up his hand. "Just listen. Melba has to be in charge; even Weller can't pretend that far. But I told her to listen to you. She won't leave you uninvolved or uninformed, unless you want to be."

"No, we want to be involved," Nick whispered. "Now can we leave it at that?"

"Sure. You want to throw some salt over your shoulder? Maybe spit through your fingers to ward off evil spirits?"

"Want to shut up already?"

"Sorry. Nick, have I thanked you lately?"

"For what?"

"For letting him do this. It's your sacrifice, too. He wouldn't do it if you didn't want him to."

"I'm not so sure about that. Cody has a mind of his own. But we're both so glad to help…if I had an organ you could use, I'd rip it out with my bare hands."

"Yeah, me too. I wish I had something important to give him in return."

Nick kissed him softly, making him blush.

"You're gonna be around for a long time, Murray. You're gonna be our friend forever. That's all we want." They'd been telling him that for almost a month but it was impossible to explain. Impossible for any of them to really express what they were feeling, or how an old friendship, nearly dead these last two years, had suddenly become worth Cody's life. Their love for Murray, and his for them, was like a seed buried in the desert that suddenly comes to life with the first rainfall.

"I know we said we weren't going to decide until it was over, but I want to go home with you. I have to stay here for a while, to be close to my doctors, but I can be home by Christmas."

"This year we'll celebrate it right," Nick said. "I'll even sing Christmas carols if you want."

"I always liked your voice, even if the tourists didn't."

"Tourists are notorious for their bad taste. But I need you to know something. Home is wherever we're together. If you have to be here, we'll be here with you. Mama Jo was so happy to get out of that retirement community, we might not be able to pry her off the boat when we want to." Nick had gone back for a couple of days after the testing was done, to set things up to ride until the final decisions were made. Mama Jo was the obvious choice to watch the _Riptide_ for them and she was thrilled to do it.

"I can't wait to see her again. I like thinking of her aboard the _Riptide_. She belongs on the water."

"Yeah, losing the _Contessa_ was hard on her. But she looked good and she was really happy to help. She made me promise to bring you back."

"You didn't tell me that."

"Well, I didn't want to add to the pressure."

Murray laughed and Nick squeezed his hand. He would have kissed him again but the door opened just then and they were suddenly surrounded by people. Dr. Weller, Mark in scrubs and a hospital ID badge, and three other nurses.

"How's it going?" Murray asked quickly.

"Going great," Mark said. "They're looking at his kidney right now and it looks perfect. We just need to get you ready to receive it before they take it out."

"How long will that be? Before I'm ready?"

"About ten minutes after you go to sleep." All of the real prep had been done an hour ago. All that remained now was to put him on a respirator and cut him open.

"I guess I better go then," he said nervously. "Mark, you'll keep Nick posted? And Stacey?" She was out in the waiting room, clutching a cell phone to call Melba the moment she knew anything. Murray had spoken to his sister this morning and wanted to again, but he was too emotional before, and now it was too late.

"I'll be in and out of everyone's hair all day. Don't worry, _jefe_."

"_Soy el jefe_," Dr. Weller said. "And don't you forget it."

"The day you start paying me is the day I call you boss. Nick, you should go and wait with Stacey. I'll come get you when Cody goes into recovery."

He nodded, suddenly unable to speak. Soon both of his friends, the only people left in the world that he really loved, would be unconscious and under the knife. He thought about the possibility of losing them both at once and Murray saw it on his face.

"It'll be okay, Nick. I'll see you in three or four hours. It's not even as long as if I just went to work. And you'll have Cody to wait with."

Nick nodded again and kissed him on the forehead. Then Mark was edging between them, helping Murray slide onto the gurney, and Nick stepped back. Murray held his eyes as they wheeled him out and the last thing he said was, "Take care of Melba."

"It's going to be fine," Weller said, to Nick as much as to Murray, and then they were all gone. Nick took a deep breath to steady himself and went to find Stacey.

***

Cody woke up knowing two things. He was in tremendous pain, which the doctor would undoubtedly refer to as 'discomfort', and Nick was holding his hand. It almost balanced out.

"Nick," he whispered raggedly. "How's Murray?"

"He's still in surgery. Remember, his started later than yours." But something in his eyes frightened Cody and he squeezed Nick's hand harder. "Mark's been back and forth and he says it's okay."

"Is it really?"

Nick was saved from answering when a nurse stepped through the curtain. It wasn't a real room, and ICU wouldn't be, either. There was no privacy here, just curtains that moved in the slightest breeze.

"Mr. Allen, how are you feeling?" she asked brightly.

"Bad. Hurts bad. And I'm thirsty."

"I'll get you some ice in a minute." She checked his pulse and blood pressure, adjusted the IV drip, and made a few notes on his chart.

"Hurts," he said again.

"I'll get you something for that."

"Murray?" he whispered. "Where's Murray?"

"Still in surgery, babe," Nick said softly. Then, to the nurse, "Can you hurry up with the ice?"

"Just one minute."

Cody sighed shallowly, acutely aware that he was missing a rib, and tried again.

"Is that Murray or Bonefish there?"

"Where? No one's here, Cody."

"Thirsty," he said again and, finally, the nurse brought some ice. Nick fed him a few pieces as she injected his morphine and Cody went back to sleep.

He was still sleeping when Mark came in, looking haggard and older than his forty years. He motioned silently for Nick to follow and they went out into the hall together, where Cody couldn't overhear.

"How's it going?"

"They've got the bleeding stopped. It was real hairy there for a while, but his pressure's holding and they're running the bowel again."

"I still can't believe this. How in the hell could they make a mistake like that?"

"It was an oversight, true, but it wasn't entirely their fault. Nicking the bowel was; there's no excuse for that. But hitting that artery was a fluke. It wasn't supposed to be there."

"I don't get that. Where the hell _would_ it be?"

"In the back. It's just an anomaly. Everyone knows how bodies are supposed to be constructed, but some people have variations. Murray's is having a renal vein running through his belly."

"That's too weird."

"Not really. You know, when I was a kid, I almost died of appendicitis. That's why I got into medicine."

"Why'd you almost die?"

"The doctor couldn't diagnose it at first. My appendix was way the hell up under my ribcage, squatting next to my liver. I had all the symptoms, but the pain was in the wrong place. They finally just cut me open and started looking. I thought that was fascinating. And Murray will, too."

"Be honest, Mark. How bad's this going to mess him up? His recovery and everything?"

"It depends on whether or not he gets an infection. Or, I should say, if I'm being totally honest, it depends on how bad an infection he gets."

"Fuck. Just tell me it wasn't for nothing. The kidney's still good, right?"

"It was when I left. They're going to put him on antibiotics right away and—we'll just wait and see."

"Yeah, wait and see," he repeated numbly. "Tell you what. I'll go back in there with Cody and wait, while you go see. Don't leave him again until it's over, okay?"

"Sure." Mark wasn't allowed in the OR, nor did he want to be there, but he was able to watch and listen from the observation theater. Some day he would tell them what it was like, Weller's surprise when he encountered the renal artery in entirely the wrong place, and his fury when the assisting surgeon clipped the bowel. Parts of it were funny and he would focus on that. Murray would be amused. If he survived. If he didn't, Mark wouldn't say anything at all.


	6. Murray in the Jungle

Cody drifted in and out of consciousness for a couple of hours before waking for real. By then Murray was in ICU, Mark by his side, waiting to see what would happen.

"How did it go?" Cody asked, as soon as he opened his eyes.

"It went fine. You did great, babe."

"Where's Murray?"

"He's in intensive care. You're going to go to a room soon and they'll put him there with you as soon as he's ready."

"When's that?"

"I don't know. Tomorrow, maybe."

"You're not telling me everything. What's wrong?"

"Nothing." But his eyes were shifty and turned away too fast, looking for a cup of ice. "Here, you sound thirsty."

"I saw Bonefish," Cody said suddenly. "I saw him, and I know something's wrong."

Nick pressed a chip of ice to Cody's dry lips and, in spite of his determination, he was helpless not to take it.

"Murray had some complications," Nick said slowly. "But he's all right and the kidney's working."

"Complications?"

"Yeah. There was some bleeding but they gave him transfusions and it's okay. Didn't Bonefish tell you that?"

"Don't mock the Bonefish," Cody said, torn between laughing and crying. "He didn't say anything, he was just standing there, at the foot of my bed. I couldn't tell if he was happy or not."

"He should be. He did a good thing here. Look, as soon as you're in your room, I'll go see Murray and bring you back a report. Maybe he'll be awake by then."

"Yeah, that's a good idea. Can I have more ice?"

Nick gave it to him and Cody closed his eyes.

"You know I love you, right?"

"I know," Cody whispered. "I love you, too. But if he dies here because of something we made him do…"

"We'll have to live with that. But you gave him a chance that he didn't have without you."

"He could have lived for years on dialysis."

"Maybe. But he's not dead and I don't think he's going to be any time soon. I think you need to get some rest so you'll be ready when it's time to share a room with the world's most enthusiastic geek."

This time Cody did laugh a little, wincing at the pain that encompassed his torso. Nick fed him another piece of ice and took up his hand for the wait.

In ICU, Murray was sleeping the sleep of the heavily sedated. But he was also in a place he didn't know, seeing things he couldn't understand. He thought, based on photos and documentaries that he'd watched long ago, that he might be in Vietnam. He was standing on the edge of a clearing, the jungle dense around him and the open space obviously man made. A landing zone, he realized. And that was when he saw the helicopter (had it been there before?), a slick like _Mimi_ but different. Beyond that he didn't know. Murray knew transports from gunships, the way he knew sailboats from power boats, but not much within those broad boundaries. And he didn't know why he was here.

Looking down at himself, he saw that he was in uniform. His uniform, with his eagles on the shoulders the way Cody fastened them, so they looked upside down to him. But he hadn't been a colonel during the war. He hadn't really been _in_ the war. That caused a strange pang in his chest, as if things were actually somehow more wrong than he already knew them to be. He stepped into the clearing, feeling drawn as if by magnetism. Drawn to the slick that was so familiar and yet so foreign. Like the one he knew, but not. As he crossed the clearing, he saw a younger man step out of the shadows of the cargo bay and stand framed in the door, a man in jungle fatigues with a rifle slung across his back. Murray faltered, tried to stop, and found his feet moving of their own accord.

"Don't be scared, Colonel," the young man said. "I died here but you aren't going to."

"Are you Bonefish Eddie Burns?" he asked, feeling a little absurd, but knowing it was right. There was no one else it could be.

"That's right, Colonel." He was smiling, a cheerful, geeky smile that looked very familiar to Murray, and his brown eyes were wide and clear.

"Am I dead?"

"Nope. I just said, you aren't going to die here."

"Well, of course not. I can't die in a dream, in Vietnam. I—I'm in the hospital, right?"

"That's right. But you're here, too. Come on, it's okay." Eddie held out his hand and Murray took it, letting the young man pull him up inside. He turned and sat down in the doorway, letting his feet swing, feeling oddly young.

"So why am I here?"

"I'm keeping you company. You're going to sleep for a while and that can be scary. You could be listening to doctors and having bad dreams, but instead, you're going to hang out and talk to me."

"Oh. That's—that's nice of you, Eddie. I appreciate it. But can I ask why?"

"Why am I keeping you company?"

"Why any of this? Why did you come and tell Cody I needed him? Why are you interested in us? Stacey thinks it's because she cares about me."

"Everyone cares about you, Colonel. Stacey's just the reason you got me. But things are coming that you don't know about. You're going to go to California and do some great things. A lot greater than redesigning computers to run Windows 98."

"I've been working with the prototypes for Win 98 and it's really interesting."

"I'm sure it is. But you're going to go to California and make some important shit happen. Remember that paper you read about the laparoscopic kidney removal?"

"Yeah, that was great. But they're still having to cut too big a hole for the hand assist. And they're not doing it up here at all. Poor Cody."

"Allen's fine. But that lap would have been nice. You couldn't do anything about him, but you can help make it happen for others. You have the talent, and now that you've been through this, you have the motivation. With Allen's kidney, you'll even have the time."

"But why you? What's your stake?"

Eddie shrugged, his rifle clicking against the doorframe.

"You needed Allen. No one else you know could do it. I feel kind of bad, putting him through the wringer with those dreams, but I was the man for the job. I look like you, and he never stopped feeling like shit about me dying. Even after he could hardly remember my name, he was feeling me. You know, they could have sent his mom, but she'd hardly make him think of you."

"So it's really that random?"

"I'm afraid so. For all I know, I died here just so I could stir Allen's guts twenty-some years later and save your life. I don't even know who you'll save with your new technology. I wish I could say it would be Stacey or Ryder or someone, but I don't know. Maybe it will be, and maybe it'll be you. Maybe by the time that kidney wears out, you'll have built an artificial one."

"I'm not a doctor."

"You don't have to be. It's the nineties, Colonel. All the cool stuff's subcontracted out anyway."

Murray laughed and Eddie joined in. It didn't look like the nineties around here.

"So what do we do now?"

"We wait. You won't wake up for a while. You can tell me about my sister, if you want. She was such a cute kid. I always thought she'd turn out good."

"She says she's going back to Bimini to be Bonefish Stacey. I'll definitely give her a bonus, make sure she gets a good boat."

"She'll love it. I used to sit over here in this fucking jungle and think about teaching her to sail. Dad and I were going to take her down home when I got back. Tell her I was looking forward to that, would you? I probably wrote it in my letters, but tell her anyway, okay?"

"Sure. I'll tell her anything you want. I feel like I owe you a lot."

"Just pass it on, Colonel. I don't know much about you, but I know you can do that."

Murray nodded, looking around the clearing again. It was so quiet, so peaceful, as if the landscape had never been touched by war. The longer he looked, the more beautiful it seemed. Not as beautiful as King Harbor, but few things were. And this stranger, a kid who died for no reason back in the early seventies, was making sure he went back there. Scientists were taught to look for order in randomness, but he sure didn't see any here.

***

Nick followed Mark into the intensive care ward, keeping his eyes determinedly forward so he wouldn't intrude on anyone else's misery. Murray was close to the nurse's station, putting him in the highest traffic area but also guaranteeing he would get the most attention. Mark opened the curtain just enough to slip through, letting Nick go ahead.

"Should we be wearing masks or something?" he asked, turning back.

"No. You're healthy and reasonably hygienic, and it's not like he's been irradiated or anything. Just try not to lick his wounds."

"You're a funny guy," Nick said, then actually looked Murray for the first time.

"I know he looks bad…"

"No, it's fine," Nick interrupted. Murray looked a little worse than Cody, paler and still on a vent, but Nick was prepared. It wasn't even the first time he'd seen the little guy in this condition. He tried to remember if Murray being shot had been scarier than this and couldn't. "Can we be alone for a few minutes?"

"Sure. Just a few, though. I'll be right outside."

There was a low, wheeled stool in the curtained cube and Nick pulled it over to the bed and sat down. He picked up Murray's hand, trying not to squeeze. He didn't expect, or really even want, a response. It was better for Murray to sleep now. Nick just wanted to touch him, to feel the life and warmth in his body.

"You're going to be okay," he whispered. "And Cody is, too. He's already awake and he asked me to tell you that he loves you. He's going to come in tomorrow and see you in person."

_What's that? Murray asked, cocking his head in the belly of the slick._

_That's Ryder. He's telling you all that stuff people tell you when they think you might be dying. It's okay, you don't have to listen if you don't want to._

_Oh. No, I think I'd rather hear more about Bimini. Do you really eat conch raw? _

"If you were going to be awake at all I'd stay," Nick said. "But Cody needs me and Mark will do you a lot more good. I'll come back, though. I'll come back first thing in the morning and stay as long as I can. Everything's going to be okay."

_In a clearing in the Vietnamese jungle, Murray was suffused with a pleasant warmth. He was listening to Bonefish Eddie talk about the sea and not worrying about anything at all. _

***

Murray slept for another twenty-four hours. He woke happy, smiling and offering Nick more reassurance than Nick felt safe to return. But Murray knew things that he didn't.

Infection failed to set in, against all odds, and he was moved into the double room with Cody the day after he woke. He watched jealously as Cody got out of bed, free to walk as much as he could, but he knew his turn was coming. He knew he would get well. Many times over the next few days, Cody climbed into a wheelchair and sat beside Murray's bed, holding his hand as they talked it all over. About Bonefish Eddie and his promises for the future.

Cody believed him. Murray's halting description of the country and the helicopter itself was too convincing to ignore. Had he dreamed it, he would have been less accurate, and, had he read enough to describe it so well, he would have known the right words to use. There was no other answer than that he had somehow seen it with the eyes of a stranger, trained to observe.

"And here we were worried sick about you and you were off in the jungle having a good time," he teased. Murray smiled, willing himself not to laugh. The surgeries were brutal for two men who loved to laugh as much as they did.

"It wasn't exactly happy hour on the _Riptide_ but it was okay. Eddie was a neat guy. Kind of like me, except his folks couldn't afford to send him to college."

"That's right, how did you…oh, yeah. It's pretty amazing, isn't it? You meeting someone I knew so long ago, who died before I even knew you. Nick still doesn't believe it. I guess it scares him too much."

"I think it would scare me if I hadn't seen it myself. But we don't have to talk about it. Did Nick go home?" Home was Murray's house in Hillsboro and it was very difficult to get Nick to go there to rest. Mostly he slept in the room, sitting up in a chair, and it was taking a heavy toll on them all.

"Yeah, I told him he wouldn't have any trouble getting back before you woke up. I was kind of counting on him being a ridiculously sound sleeper."

"I'm glad. I love him, but I love him more when he isn't so cranky."

"No kidding. Just wait'll we all get home and he can be comfortably in charge."

"Not so comfortably. He'll have to fight Stacey and Mark. They both think they're in charge most of the time."

"Well, that'll be fun to watch. Have you fired Denise yet?"

"Mark's doing it today. I can't believe this kidney function, Cody. I know it sounds weird, but every time they empty the cath bag, I feel a little bit proud of myself. And grateful."

"Hey, don't bury me in gratitude, Boz. Remember, we made you do it and you almost died."

"I don't think I was in much danger. The doctors here are awfully good. And now I can pee again. You don't know how much you'll miss it until it's gone."

"I'll take your word for it. But does that mean you'll be thinking of me every time you take a leak?"

"Probably," he smiled and Cody squeezed his hand.

"Move back onto the boat and you'll be thinking about us all the time. You remember what it's like, with no space and no privacy."

"That never bothered me. I'll find work in LA somewhere, with an office and a lab. So my stuff won't be in the way so much."

"You'll be on the road half the day."

"Not every day. I can afford to set my own hours, you know. Probably have a driver, too."

"You've got it all figured out, haven't you?"

"I think so. It's going to be good, Cody. Like it used to be, only without the gunfights and money troubles."

"That sounds nice. I don't miss being shot at, I can tell you that right now."

Murray laughed, not using his diaphragm at all, and they started reminiscing about old cases, old crimes, old times. Murray confessed that he'd owned a motorcycle for a while after coming to Oregon, having never fully recovered from his experience with the biker gang. He even took some sailing lessons, but the Willamette and Columbia rivers were no place for sailboats.

They didn't talk about the bad times, and when Nick came back they were both still laughing, Cody pressing a pillow over Murray's incision so it didn't hurt so much. Nick asked what the joke was before joining in with stories of his own. It was the most fun they'd had in a while, and then the nurse appeared. Murray groaned and Cody rolled his eyes.

"You're supposed to be in bed, Cody," she said, in the high pitched, patronizing tone that certain kinds of people used when they weren't sure if you were just emotionally unstable or actually retarded.

"It's right there, I didn't go anywhere. Anyway, the doctor told me to sit up as much as I could. It's good for my lungs, right?"

"So sit up in bed. Murray, you need to do your breathing exercises."

"Still?" he whined, more to entertain his friends than to win against the nurse. He'd actually had some problems with fluid in his lungs the first few days, and though he hated the treatment, he hated the alternatives more. And anyway, it was impossible to win against this particular nurse. She was a Ratchet all the way.

"Let me stay and help him," Cody said, knowing it would be denied.

"If Murray needs help, he can ask me for it." She unlocked the brakes on Cody's chair and pulled him away from the bed. He grabbed for the rims, meaning to do it himself, but her relentless yanking made him give over before his staples tore. Nick didn't try to interfere, but he did go along and help Cody into bed. The nurse wasn't as strong as she thought she was, and her help left a lot to be desired. At least in lifting heavy men. Murray didn't want her help with his breathing treatment because she used too much strength against him.

He waited until Cody was settled before raising the head of his bed and reaching for the incentive spirometer. Nick, who had to limit the mother hen routine in public, left Cody's bed and went to Murray's. He sat on the edge of the mattress, ignoring Nurse Ratchet's glare, and took up the pillow. Murray was supposed to use the spirometer once an hour when he was awake and Nick was quite good with the pillow by now. He laid it over Murray's belly and pressed gently, supporting the muscle as Murray breathed deep and tried to hold it. There was an ink mark on the spirometer tube that he was supposed to reach but so far he hadn't. Sometimes Murray wondered if he could have reached it even before the surgery. Cody had only used his the first two days and then his lungs were declared safe. He'd even been able to manage his own pillow. Murray exhaled, rested a moment, and tried again. The nurse stood at the foot of his bed, counting out loud to make sure he didn't cheat. At nine he was exhausted and at ten he drew the marker half as high. She told him to do it again and try harder next time. Murray told her to get bent and she went off in a huff to call his doctor.

"That wasn't nice, Boz," Cody called from the next bed.

"I've _been_ nice to her. It doesn't work. Press harder, Nick, I need to cough." He leaned forward over the pillow and managed to bring up a little mucus into a tissue. "Tell Weller about that, if he bothers to come by. You both were witnesses."

"Yeah, Murray, we saw you cough up goo," Nick laughed, but he was just kidding. He knew it was important. "Can you sit up a while longer?"

"I'll give it a try." And he did, for about five minutes. Then he reclined the bed to fifty degrees and called it good. It wasn't upright but it wasn't flat, either. In that position he could both breathe and sleep, and that's what he was doing an hour later when Weller showed up.

Nick woke him subtly, gave him his glasses and got out of the way. Weller put Murray through his paces, using the spirometer and coughing while he listened with a stethoscope. When he was finished, Weller smiled.

"I think it's a good idea to keep doing the exercises," he said, "but you can cut back to twice a day."

"Great. When can I go home?"

"Soon. I'd like to see you out of bed today. Think you can manage that?"

"Yes, of course. I mean, I think so." Ever since the catheter was removed, he'd been preparing himself for this. "If I get up now, can I go home tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow? Probably not. But let's see you on your feet anyway. Do you need some help?"

"I guess we'll see." Murray pushed back the blankets and swung his legs carefully off the bed. Holding the IV stand in his left hand and his stomach with his right, he leaned forward and tried to slide off the bed. He failed but was quick to swallow his pride. "Nick? Little help?"

Strong hands grasped his elbows and lifted him to his feet. There was pain but Murray found he could stand. He wrapped his right hand around Nick's forearm and took a shaky step.

"Hey, looking good," Cody cheered and Murray indicated with his eyes that he wanted to go over there. Nick held on and they covered the short distance in only twice the time it would have taken anyone else to run to the elevator and back. When they got there, Murray sank onto the bed with a grateful sigh. "Don't you love these gowns, Boz? They don't close in the back where we come from."

"Yeah, we might have to take some home with us. Not that we'll need them, right?"

Cody laid a hand on Murray's thigh and squeezed gently.

"I can't see why we would. You're well and I was never sick."

"Yes, that's right." He laid his hand over Cody's and closed his eyes for a moment, concentrating on breathing. His heart was racing and he felt light-headed.

"Murray, you ought to get back to bed," Nick said, seeing him turn pale.

"Maybe I should," he said faintly. Nick put his left arm around Murray's shoulders, took Murray's right hand in his right, and pulled him to his feet. In only a little more than twice the time of the original journey, they returned to the empty bed. Nick lowered Murray onto it and folded his skinny body into place. Covering him up, he turned to the doctor and tried to look optimistic.

"Is he okay?"

"He's tired," Weller said, coming forward to check anyway. He listened to Murray's heart and lungs and told him to take a nap. "Maybe walk across the room again this evening. Tomorrow you can try the hall, and if that goes okay, we'll think about sending you home the day after."

"That's great," Murray said, forcing his eyes open to show he meant it. "Day after tomorrow? What about Cody?"

"Well, Cody could have gone home today. I just thought it would be easier on everyone to keep you together. He can leave tomorrow, if he wants, or wait and go home with you."

"Hear that? You've been faking," Murray grinned, turning toward him.

"Not me. Sounds like it was the doctor who was faking. Normally I'd be pissed, but I like hanging out here. You don't hog the remote like Nick does."

"He means I let him watch _Law &amp; Order_ every day."

"Well, we'll just keep him here until you're ready to go. A little more _L&amp;O_ won't hurt you," Weller grinned.

Nick was terribly relieved that they had such an understanding doctor. It was hard enough on him when his friends were in separate rooms. If he'd had to chose between an ailing lover at home and a more seriously ill almost-lover in the hospital, he hardly knew which one he'd pick. But it seemed like Weller knew that.

"You must have good insurance," Cody teased and Murray nodded, letting his eyes fall shut. The insurance company might complain that Cody's stay was too long, and if they did, he would gladly pay the difference. If Cody were released, he wouldn't be strong enough to come back and visit, and it was worth it to Murray to keep his friends close by.

"Yes, well, so long as Intel doesn't know I'm leaving them, they don't mind paying. I won't officially resign until I'm through the worst of it."

"I wish all my patients were as well-fixed as you," Weller said. "Get some rest and take a walk after supper, okay?"

"You got it."

"Say, Murray," Nick said when the doctor was gone, "what are you going to do for insurance if you quit? I know you have money, but do you want to spend it all on doctors and pills?"

"Not really. I'll have another job lined up before I resign and there'll be insurance there. It'll be part of my contract."

"You can do that?"

"Well, you made a valid point before, Nick. When you said that someone would give me a kidney if I just made it public, because I'm important. I wouldn't use it for that, but I will in contract negotiations. If they want me to work, they'll have to keep me alive."

"You've really gone hardcore, haven't you?" Cody said in amazement.

"I want to live as much as the next guy. It isn't fair that people will pay for me and not for others, but I won't turn it down. Eddie said…" He stopped abruptly, remembering that Nick didn't want to talk about the Bonefish.

"Go on," Nick said, moving closer to Cody's bed. "What did Eddie say?"

"That I was going to do something good. Invent something that would really help people. Maybe I can make operations like this cheaper and more readily available."

"I've heard there's a lot of that going on in LA," Nick said neutrally.

"Oh yes. Seattle would almost be better, but LA is better than here. At least for the medical stuff, and I think that's what I want to do now."

"No more artificial intelligence?" Cody asked, half teasing.

"I can still do that in my spare time."

"You hear that, Nick? He's going to perform miracles for a living and revolutionize AI in his spare time."

"But when will we go fishing?"

"You guys," Murray said sleepily. "Always thinking about having fun."

"Fun's important. Didn't Melba teach you that?"

"Did I tell you she's going to be staying with us for a while at the house?"

"I hope that's another Bozinsky practical joke," Cody muttered.

"The first of many, I'm sure," Nick sighed.

Murray heard them and fell asleep smiling. It was still a hospital room in northern Oregon, but it already felt like home.


	7. Consummation

Murray almost didn't recognize his house when he returned. The guest room belonged to Melba now, and his bedroom, his private sanctuary where Stacey had been allowed only once and even Mark rarely ventured, looked like the last hotel room in Vegas during COMDEX. (He shared that joke later but no one got it. Only computer geeks went to COMDEX, or even knew what it was.) It was a public place now, he realized, as Mark and Nick escorted him to bed, holding his arms like he was an old man. He would have complained, but he was tired and it didn't matter so much now that he was getting better. The special treatment would end soon enough.

They put Murray down on the bed, and Mark stayed to help him undress while Nick went back to the car for Cody. Cody was stronger and walking fairly well, but he would need help on the stairs. When they came back, Murray was already down to his boxers and bandages, tucked neatly into bed. Mark went out, smiling that tight unreadable smile, leaving Nick to get Cody into bed.

"I'm not that tired, you know," Cody complained as Nick took off his shoes. He might be able to walk but it would be a while before he touched his toes.

"Doctor's orders, buddy."

"And I need company," Murray put in, turning those soft, shining eyes on him. He didn't, but Cody would do anything if he thought it was for someone else.

"Okay, Boz. For you." He lay back with a groan that sounded a little like relief and Murray edged closer to take his hand. Cody felt Murray's arm against his own and squeezed the thin hand gently. They were arranged so that their surgical sites were opposite, Cody's being on the left side of his body and Murray's on the right, so elbows wouldn't accidentally collide with healing tissue, and Cody could roll over without turning his back on his friend. Murray, with the incision on one side and a venous catheter on the other, had to stay on his back either way.

At the foot of the bed was a fold out cot with a nice mattress, one that somebody could sleep on in comfort, and another stood against the wall on Murray's side of the bed. That one was Mark's and the other Nick's, in case they should both need to be there at the same time. Murray hoped that wouldn't happen, but after everything he'd been through the last two years, he'd learned to be prepared.

Mark tapped on the door, the only time he'd ever been known to knock in Murray's house, and let himself in.

"Rachel's on her way over with the groceries and it's time for your meds."

"How much longer?" Murray asked, taking the box of pills.

"Until what? Rachel, Armageddon, decent daytime TV…?"

"Until I can stop taking pills in the middle of the day."

"Another week. It's just antibiotics and pain killers. Trust me, you don't want to feel this pain. Let it get a toehold and it'll be more than you want to do to beat it back."

"What about me?" Cody asked, half teasing.

"You have your own nurse. Ryder, are you on top of his schedule?"

"I thought you were," Nick said, semi-serious.

"Sorry, Mark," Murray smiled, not sorry at all. "But you can do both, right?"

"I'm already on time and a half, _ jefe_."

"So I'll make it double and you'll get rich. Come on, _mi esclavo_. It's not like you have to wipe his butt or anything."

"Thanks, Boz," Cody sighed.

"No problem. Deal, _esclavo_?"

"Can't say no to double time. But you're lucky I'm not married or my wife would be moving in, too."

"Roommate for Melba," Nick said.

"Yeah, where is she, anyway?" Mark had a healthy appreciation for Murray's sister, as most men did. She was as good a good reason as any to agree to more work and longer hours.

"She's with Rachel, isn't she?"

"Rache didn't mention it."

"Probably cooking up some surprise," Cody said. "She's a grown up, Murray, don't worry. But, Mark, where are my pills?"

"Around somewhere, I imagine. Let me look."

"In the car," Nick said helpfully. Mark reminded himself that he was up to thirty dollars an hour for little more than watching two guys sleep, and went out to the car. There were a lot of things left out there and he took it all inside to put away. Clothes went in the laundry room, meds in the kitchen, instruction pamphlets the size of Stephen King novels in the bedroom, where he once again knocked before entering.

"Here, Allen, I got your pill." He put a little teasing disgust in his voice, as if to imply Cody were a wimp for needing it, and got the finger in return.

"What, no water?"

"You people. Here, I brought you something to read, too," he said, handing over the booklets and loose papers. "Hang on, I'll get some water. You need any more, Murray?"

"No, I'm good." Murray was already picking through the papers, looking for anything he didn't already know. It was pretty basic stuff. Wound care, medications, warnings about taking his medications, additional reminders that he would die a hideous death if he forgot his medications…Cody took one of the sheets that said WARNING across the top in twenty-two point font and read it over thoughtfully.

"Boy, they really want you to know the score, don't they?" he said quietly, realizing that perhaps he hadn't fully understood it himself. For Cody, there were no aftereffects, beyond those related to the rib removal and the reality of having one kidney. Murray would be on anti-rejection drugs for the rest of his life and still, one day, the kidney would fail. It might be five years or twenty, but it would almost certainly happen, and there would never be a day, anywhere in his future, that he didn't have to think about that. In a few months this event would be firmly in Cody's past, but it would always be Murray's present.

"None of this is news," Murray shrugged. "They tell you this stuff from day one, before you even start dialysis. It's like I'm in college and the day I was told my kidneys were failing was kindergarten. When I got the first catheter was third grade, and the first, failed, AVF was junior high."

"What do you mean, failed? You didn't tell us about that."

"It's not important. The first surgery didn't take, is all. The second one, high school, went fine and the fistula formed in really good time. It can take up to two years to really set one, but mine was ready in about three months. Normally, I guess, people's kidney's fail slower and they have time to prepare. Might went from great to dead meat in less than two weeks so I didn't have time to heal properly before I started dialysis."

"So they used a catheter?" Nick asked, still confused.

"Yeah, under my collarbone. This scar, here," he added, raising up on his elbow and pointing it out with one finger.

"Like the one you had when you scratched your arm?" Cody asked, leaning over to kiss it softly. Murray blushed and lay back down, glad that Mark was still in the kitchen.

"Yeah, except it was tunneled under the skin more and under the bone. It was more permanent and a little less painful than these others," he said, indicating the narrow tube still in his upper left arm. "When the AVF was ready to use, they took it out. I'll have this one for another week or so, in case something goes wrong and they need quick access, but after that I should be done with all of them."

"I don't know how you stand it," Cody said quietly. "I hate just having the regular IVs. I'd go crazy if I had to go home like that and just—live with it."

"Live is the operative word, Cody. You think you can't and then they tell you that you have to, so you do. I wonder sometimes if I'll be able to get used to being without them."

"Without what, _jefe_?" Mark asked, bringing Cody's water.

"_Mis esclavos_," he grinned.

"Looks to me like you'll have all the _esclavos_ you'll need."

As if to prove the point, Cody took his pill, drank a little of the water and handed the cup to Murray to finish. Murray did, then gave it back to Mark with a wink.

"Maybe so."

"I thought you didn't want any."

"I said I didn't need any, and I didn't. There was enough."

"Whatever you say, _jefe_. That's Rachel's car now. Do you want anything else, or should I go help her with the groceries?"

"No, go help. Make sure Baba's with her."

Melba had been all over town, picking up library books, getting things from Murray's lab, and acquiring a cake and a huge quantity of balloons.

"How're they doing?" she asked Mark as they unloaded the car.

"Good. I think Murray's in more pain than he's admitting, you can tell by the way the skin around his eyes twitches, but I doped them both up pretty good a minute ago. I'll get their lunch before they go to sleep and they'll be fine."

"Poor Scooter." She hated to think of him hiding pain. But as long as Mark could see it, they'd be okay. "I hope I can cheer him up."

"Melba, his best friends just showed up out of nowhere and saved his life. I don't think he _needs_ cheering up."

She laughed, partly at herself and partly because she loved to laugh, and thrust a stack of books into his arms.

"Just put those in his office and be quiet. He's my brother and I'll feel whatever I want to about it."

"Never got over not matching, did you?" he asked sympathetically.

"Would you?" she replied and he had no answer.

***

Mark stayed until after supper to make sure Murray ate properly and took his meds on time. Gradually a pattern would be established and Murray would take responsibility for these things himself, or his friends would for him, but Mark was prepared to oversee them for the first couple of weeks. He already knew that he couldn't quit cold turkey; he was too attached to Murray to just let him sink or swim. He tried to hide it, as he always hid his real feelings from his patients, but Cody unwittingly exposed the truth over dessert that night.

"What are you going to do for work when you're done with us?" he'd asked and Mark felt unprepared to lie. Whenever Murray asked that same question he'd always been able to deflect it somehow. But with all four watching, wanting an answer, he felt trapped into shrugging the truth.

"I don't know. Normally I have better defined hours and two or three patients at a time. But I've been turning down work for months so I could focus on this, and I don't have anything lined up for after. I can't really plan, not knowing exactly when this job's ending."

"But you will be able to get another job, right?" Murray asked, his forehead wrinkled in concern.

"I imagine so. A recommendation from you wouldn't hurt, but I have a pretty good reputation in the field anyway. I won't be out of work long."

"You won't be out at all," Murray said firmly. "I'll give you enough notice to find another job before you leave me." Meaning he would pay Mark until he had another job, whether he needed him or not. It seemed fair to him, after all the demands he'd been making on Mark's time, but the generosity still left everyone speechless. Finally Mark shrugged again.

"Okay, cool. You want me to stay the night?"

"At double pay? No thanks. Just get back in time for breakfast, okay?"

"You bet. I'll even let Rachel do the dishes."

"I'll do them," Melba said, making her first contribution to the conversation. "I can tell these guys are going to bed early, but I won't be tired for hours."

"You don't have to do that," Murray protested, prepared to stay up late and entertain her.

"Maybe I want to. I might even make breakfast, if nothing more interesting comes up."

"You know what's interesting," Mark said, turning his attention to her. "That paper you wrote on the _St. Helena_ sinking. What happened with the recovery after you found the wreck?"

"Oh, we brought it up. I'm writing a paper on the restoration now. It was so fascinating—I could talk about it all night."

"That's a good idea, Baba," Murray said suddenly. "Why don't you and Mark go do that?"

"Yeah, why don't you?" Nick seconded. "Neither of you are getting a lot of intellectual stimulation around here."

"That okay with you, Melba? You want to go have coffee or something?"

"Sure. Or we could just go to your place."

Mark looked startled for a second, but he wasn't exactly new to the world of Bozinskys.

"Okay. You want me to have her home by midnight, _jefe_?"

"She's a big girl. Just, if you decide not to stay out all night, Baba, don't ring the bell and don't bother to check on me. I'll be okay."

"I know you will, Scooter." She got up and put her plate in the sink. Mark gave Murray his pills, Melba kissed him goodnight, and they left together.

"Did you really just send your sister off to get laid?" Cody asked in wonder.

"If she wants to, I guess. And at least I know she's safe with him. He's a nurse and I know him pretty well. But the point is, and I know this is complicated, but try to keep up, neither of them are _here_."

"Neat trick," Nick said with a grin. "I didn't know you were so crafty."

"I've learned a few things over the years."

"So how do you feel?" Cody asked. "Do you feel _good_ yet?"

"Better than I did. Maybe even good enough."

"I'm not tracking," Nick said, hearing in their voices that there was something deliberate intended. Something he didn't know about, exactly, but that he wanted to. "Good enough for what?"

"To be initiated," Cody grinned. "I couldn't talk him into it before, but I think he might be ready now. You didn't take your sedatives, did you, Boz?"

"Got 'em right here," he said, blushing prettily as he moved his plate aside. Two tablets were hidden under the edge, one for the pain and one to help him sleep.

"Then you'd better get ready for bed."

"Need any help?" Nick asked, automatically taking Murray's arm and easing him to his feet.

"No, I'll be okay." He went to the bathroom to brush his teeth, glad that he'd had a shower this morning at the hospital. He looked at the bandage on his belly, which was more to shield him from the sight of the staples now than to protect the wound. The tape wrapped around his body, holding him together so he could take deep breaths and, if he was lucky, cough. Ordinarily, he would have felt self-conscious about that, but Cody had the same tape and a bigger bandage. Murray didn't know exactly what was going to happen tonight, but it wouldn't be particularly athletic. That idea comforted him more than he would have liked to admit.

The hall was empty when he opened the door, but he could hear the guys in the other bathroom, the one that technically didn't have a bath. He started toward his room, moving carefully, one hand on the wall to steady himself. At some point he was going to need those pills, so easily left behind on the kitchen table, and he hoped Nick would go back for them if asked.

Nick stepped into the hall just then, as if summoned by the thought.

"Hey, Murray, let me give you a hand," he said lightly. Ashamed, yet grateful, Murray pushed away from the wall and reached for his friend. Nick stepped around to his left side, ducked under Murray's arm, and scooped him up as if he weighed nothing. Murray gasped and held on tight. "Does that hurt?"

"No. I'm just feeling a little—swept off my feet," Murray laughed, wincing at the stab in his belly.

"Good. I'm gonna put you in the middle but if you don't want to sleep there, you can move later."

Murray couldn't help glancing at the tube in his arm, thinking about how he needed to protect it. But he needed this, too.

"There's a roll of gauze and some tape in the office, in Mark's chest by the recliner. Can you bring them here?"

"Sure. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, don't worry. I just need to fix something."

Nick went and got the things he'd asked for, along with a pair of scissors. When he came back, Murray was sitting up on the bed, unbuttoning his short sleeved shirt.

"Can I help with that?"

"You can help with anything you want," Murray said, smiling oddly. Nick slipped the shirt down off his shoulders and over his arms, careful of the tube with its wide plastic port. He forced himself to focus on Murray's face for a moment, the sunken cheeks and wide brown eyes behind unfamiliarly fashionable glasses. He studied his old friend carefully, his long neck and narrow chest with its soft, sparse hair. Without knowing he was going to, he reached out and stroked the small tuft of hair in the hollow of Murray's throat. A small moan vibrated beneath his fingers and he drew back with a sigh of pleased anticipation.

"What's the gauze for, now?" he asked, trying to gather his senses before it was too late.

"Oh, yes. I want to cover up the port. Weller left it exposed, in case he needed to plug me in again, but I don't think I'll need it tonight. Just wrap a little gauze around my arm, enough to bind the tube all the way and cover the end, and tape it down."

"Are you sure it's okay?" Nick asked foolishly.

"I'm sure. It won't hurt anything and I think it'll be safer, all things considered."

"Maybe, but…"

"If it makes you feel any better, you can cut the gauze off easily in the time it would take an ambulance to get here."

"Is that a joke?"

"Not really. It's supposed to comfort you, but nothing's going to go wrong tonight. It isn't going to matter."

"Okay," Nick said, less reluctantly. He began wrapping the gauze around the catheter in Murray's upper arm, just tight enough to hold the tube in place, and taped it off an inch below the port.

"See," Murray said calmly, "no big deal."

"You're braver than I am, Boz," Nick said and he laughed. "What's funny?"

"Nothing. Just the idea that a guy who flew helicopters into a war zone thinks this is brave."

"It is. In war, you don't think about dying. Or, if you do, you think about it happening fast. A bullet to the head or a chopper crash. You don't think about sleeping in your own bed with tubes sticking out of your body. You don't have to filter your blood through a machine, and whatever you do, you don't do it alone. I knew a lot of good soldiers who'd freak out and run away from this. I might, if it was anyone but you or Cody."

"I guess I knew that. That you hate this stuff, I mean. I was trying to protect you from it and maybe I still am, a little."

"You mean the gauze is for me?"

"It's for all of us."

"You know, sometimes I'm a little jealous of Mark. Because he's been here all along, seeing all of this, and being your friend. You lean on him a lot, don't you?"

"I did. And he is my friend, but just because I was sick. When I'm fully recovered, he'll leave me. We might stay in touch, in fact I hope we do, but he'll go on to other patients and it won't be the same. He won't be there for me like you are, all the time. He can't afford to be."

"I know. But still, I wish we'd been here. I wish you'd leaned on us a little more."

"What can I say? I'm sorry, but you know that. Everyone's sorry and it doesn't change what happened. All we can do is go forward, you know?"

"Yeah, I know." Nick put the tape and gauze on the nightstand and eased Murray down on his back. He was wearing sweatpants to avoid irritating his incision and Nick slipped them off before Murray quite knew he was going to. He shivered and Nick asked if he was cold.

"No. A little warm, if anything," he smiled nervously. Nick leaned down and kissed him, tasting both the nerves and the smile. Murray reached with his good right arm and wrapped his hand around Nick's neck, holding him close as the kiss deepened. Nick was surprised that his meek little friend was such a good kisser, and bold. But hardly had he thought it, when Murray turned his face away.

"What's wrong?" he whispered, his lips brushing Murray's ear.

"Are you sure about this?" Murray asked softly, trying to see his face.

"I think you're reading my lines, Boz."

"I might be the virgin, but you're the one with the lover who might get jealous. Are you guys really sure it's okay?"

"We're sure. Murray, neither of us have ever been with another man. It's always just been us, but we want you, too. Both of us, because it's you. It's not cheating, because it's you."

"That's right," Cody said, limping through the doorway. "And, Nick, you're in my spot."

"Sorry," Nick grinned, raising up on his hands and knees and sidestepping over Murray. His denim clad knee brushed the front of Murray's boxers, making him shiver again. Then Cody was there, undressing and getting stiffly into bed. He lay on his right side, careful not to pin Murray's vulnerable arm between them, and took over the kiss where Nick left off. Murray's right hand was on Nick's leg, but as the kiss went on, Nick slid out from under it and began to take off his clothes. He paused a moment to look at his friends, watching with no trace of jealousy as they consumed each other. It was right somehow. He knew it.

Nick sat down on the bed and stroked his hand lightly up Murray's leg, making him flinch and tremble. Goosebumps popped up on pale skin but Nick saw the twitch in his shorts and knew he liked it. He ran his hand back down to Murray's knee and up again, tickling lightly, keeping him twitching, making him moan against Cody's mouth. The sight of Cody's hand on Murray's chest, pulling the fine hair and pinching his nipple, made Nick hungry and impatient. He leaned down and kissed Murray's inner thigh, biting gently and feeling his whole body tense.

Cody raised his head to see what was happening and smiled approval. Murray's fingers tightened on his neck, trying to draw him back, and Cody ducked to kiss his throat instead. He licked the sensitive skin tentatively, finding the place Murray liked best, just above his collarbones, and settled in to create an appropriate bruise. The steady moaning beneath his lips encouraged him, as it did Nick, who was growing more adventurous. Murray tensed again at the feel of Nick's hands on his boxers, but when he pulled, Murray raised his hips and let them go. He couldn't see, Cody's soft blond hair was in his face, but Nick's hand on his cock was no surprise. Ecstasy, but not a surprise.

"Funny," Nick whispered, stroking him softly, "I thought I heard someone say he couldn't get hard."

"Must have been someone else," Murray sighed, spreading his legs a little. Nick rewarded him by cradling his sac in one hand and lightly kissing his rather impressive shaft. Murray gasped, arching into him in spite of the pain in his belly, and Cody's hand on his chest pressed him back.

"Easy, babe," he whispered and moved to capture the soft, sweet mouth again. Nick drew Murray's cock into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it as he sucked, holding the bony hips firmly to the bed with one hand. He heard the muffled moans, felt Murray's hand suddenly digging into his shoulder, and then heard Cody gasp. Lifting his eyes, he saw that Murray was stroking Cody with his left hand, letting Cody guide his tentative caress, their foreheads pressed together, their eyes half closed.

Nick went on sucking, squeezing Murray's testicles gently, listening to his lovers moan in unison. He found a rhythm that made the moans come steadily, made Murray fight his restraining hand, and felt Cody slide into it as well. Murray's hand slid from Nick's shoulder to his head and tangled in his hair, pulling sharply as he groaned and sobbed. Nick responded by pushing him deeper and Murray came, shouting his name. His hand, up until then so gentle and tentative on Cody's member, clenched reflexively and Cody thrust hard in response. Murray didn't let up, couldn't so long as he was coming, so long as Nick was sucking and swallowing, and suddenly Cody was crying out, harsh, wordless sounds of joy. Murray felt the hot liquid fill his hand and run up his arm, inspiring a mixture of emotions he would never fully understand.

But the first one to make itself known was fear, and he abruptly pulled away. Cody withdrew in surprise, trying not to feel hurt, and Nick backed off, too. Murray was trying to sit up, reaching over Cody's body, and for a moment the other man, misunderstanding, tried to hold him. But Murray got free and, with a soft sound of pain that couldn't be concealed, reached the tissues on the nightstand.

"What is it?" Nick asked, suddenly afraid. They must have hurt him somehow and already he was thinking about having to explain it to Mark.

"I'm sorry," Murray said, distracted as he hurriedly wiped off his arm.

"What is it?" Nick demanded, still not seeing.

"I have to keep the access site clean," Murray said shyly. "Even though I probably won't need it again, there are still breaks in the skin." But the semen hadn't reached them. The site hadn't been contaminated and Mark wouldn't have to know. "God, I'm sorry," he sighed, laying back and covering his eyes with his other hand. "Leave it to me to screw up the nicest thing anyone ever did for me."

"Second nicest," Cody amended. "And you didn't screw it up. I'm the one who came on your arm, and it was still great."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Nick seconded. "Didn't you think so?"

"Honestly? Better than great. I love you guys so much…" he whispered and stopped when his voice broke.

"We love you, too," Cody said, kissing him softly. Murray couldn't help reaching into it, turning a brief kiss into a prolonged exploration that left his friend breathless. But when Cody pulled back, he saw Murray still blushing, still uncertain.

"Was it really all right?" he asked hesitantly. "I really didn't ruin it?"

"It really was great, and you didn't ruin anything," Nick said firmly. "Now how about we wash your arm and maybe wrap it up, just to be safe?"

"We could do that," Murray said. "Or we could wait until we're done."

"We're not done?"

In response, Murray touched Nick's erection and smiled when he flinched.

"You're not done, are you?"

"I guess not. Do you want to do something about that?"

"Well, I am right handed," Murray grinned and wrapped his graceful fingers around Nick's thick shaft. Nick went down on his elbows and took Murray's nipple in his mouth. Cody kissed him again, sucking and biting his tongue until he couldn't breathe, but the lithe hand kept moving, so gently skilled that Nick would have wondered where he'd learned it, had he had brain cells to spare. Over-stimulated by the earlier action, Nick came quickly, but it was safe and he felt no guilt. It was Cody who grabbed a towel from the nightstand and threw it at him, telling him to clean up so they wouldn't have to change the sheets. Murray looked and smiled to himself. Mark might not know but Rachel would.

"You still want me to bandage your arm?" Nick asked, tossing the towel aside.

"I think it's a good idea. I should go wash it, make sure it's clean. Help me to the bathroom, Nick?"

"Sure." He pulled the skinny man gently out of bed, not bothering with clothes while they were all alone.

"I'll just wait here," Cody yawned, watching them leave the room, arms tight around each other.

In the bathroom, Nick stood off to the side and watched Murray wash his forearm with a soapy cloth. He rinsed it carefully, then swabbed it with alcohol. He washed both hands and his right arm, but didn't bother with the alcohol again.

"You have to be really careful, don't you?" Nick said conversationally.

"With the immunosuppressant drugs, I can't afford any kind of infection. It's okay, though. I mean, it's a little extra work, but it's worth it."

"Worth it not to get sick, or to have sex again?"

"Both." Murray put his hands on the counter and tried to catch his breath. Nick stepped up behind him and strong arms slid around his waist, above the bandage where there was less pain. Murray leaned back against the heavy body with a contented sigh. "You really won't let anything happen to me, will you?"

"No," he said simply. "I won't ever let anything happen to you."

"You can't promise that," Murray smiled, turning to kiss his neck softly.

"It's a promise so far as I can guarantee. I don't know about infections and rejections and shit, but I'm not going to let you go again. Whatever you have to go through from now on, we all go through together. Now let's go back to bed. You're shivering."

"I'm not cold."

"And that's not the only reason to go to bed."

Murray opted to sleep on the edge of the bed, where it would be easier to get up, and Nick took the middle. He wrapped gauze around Murray's forearm, hoping to protect the tender access site since he would be the one sleeping beside it, and didn't want to be responsible for any accidents. Cody watched the process with some interest, thinking he might be called upon to do it one day, but glad that it wasn't on him right now. It was good to let Nick be in charge.

"How do I know I won't roll over on it?" Nick asked as Murray lay down.

"You don't. I should probably sleep alone, actually. It would be a lot safer."

"No," Cody said, more sharply than he'd intended. "No more of that outsider crap, Boz. You take this side. Nick can manage not to whack your stomach easier than he can watch your arm."

"He's right," Nick said, not knowing if he was or not. It was up to the two vulnerable guys to decide where they were most vulnerable.

"But you'll have to watch out for both of us," Murray said hesitantly. He hated to put anyone out.

"I already do that," Nick smiled. "Go on, slide over."

Cody and Murray managed to trade places without either of them getting up, and if they paused in the middle for a moment, no one minded.

"Are we sleeping naked?" Nick asked, half teasing. Cody shrugged and Murray blushed. "It's okay, Boz. I just want to know if you want help with your pajamas."

"No, I think I'll be all right. But you could get me those pills off the kitchen table, if you don't mind. I could really use them now."

"Sure. You should have said something when we were up."

"Then I'd have had to go in there, too, or come back here by myself. This is better," he said, smiling so sweetly there was no way to argue. Nick went to get the pills and Cody took Murray's hand across the bed.

"You know, you're pretty hot for a sick old man."

"I was about to say the same thing," Murray laughed. "But we're not old, are we? Forty-five is the new thirty, right?"

"Right. Except if I was thirty, I'd be over there trying to get you to yell my name, too, instead of going to sleep."

"There's always tomorrow."

Nick came back and Murray swallowed his pills obediently. He was tired and happy and horny, but mostly he was in pain, and he suspected Cody was, too. Nick gave him a pill and Murray shared his water. Sleep came quickly for all of them, Murray turned just a little on his left side, his arm stretched out safely in front of him, with Nick supporting him from behind. Cody lay on his right side, giving his incision maximum clearance, but with his back pressed hard against Nick's. The last thing on all their minds as they went to sleep was that someday this would be easier. Murray and Cody would be healed and it wouldn't matter who was on which side or even who was on top of whom. It was really something to look forward to.

***

Mark and Melba snuck into the house before dawn, hours before they were expected or needed, solely for the purpose of defying Murray's instructions. Or at least half of them. They didn't ring the bell. But while Mark went into the office to play Minesweeper, Melba went to her brother's room and peeked in the door. Sure enough, all three men were in bed and the covers in such disarray that she could see they were mostly, maybe entirely, naked. She smiled at them silently and closed the door.

"Everything okay?" Mark asked when she joined him in the office. She sank into Murray's dialysis recliner, the most comfortable chair in the house, and nodded.

"I think they're fine. Probably stayed up too late, though. They won't want breakfast right away."

"_El jefe_ needs his meds at eight. Beyond that, it's none of my business."

"_Usted es un esclavo bueno_," she said. "I'm going to sleep right here. Wake me whenever you want."

Mark nodded and went on sweeping mines.


	8. Christmas (Bonefish Reprise)

_Christmas Eve 1997_

Murray lay on the sofa, not raising his head from Cody's comfortable thigh, but listening avidly to the conversations around him. Mark and Melba were on the floor beside him, Melba's long legs lying casually over her new husband's, so she could lean in and whisper to him occasionally. But Murray always heard. She had no secrets from him. Across the salon, Stacey Burns, one time administrative assistant to the greatest computer scientist in the United States and now Bonefish Stacey with beads in her hair, was helping Nick arrange food on the table. Mama Jo, in Cody's softly cushioned chair, sipped a rum toddy and distracted her pleasantly with talk of the sea.

Stacey recognized the old woman as a kindred spirit and was learning everything she could. But she was a good captain in her own right, having safely navigated the _Eddie Burns_ from Bimini to King Harbor via the Panama Canal in under a month with only a crew of four. Mama Jo already respected her more as a sailor than she ever had Cody, or most of the men in King Harbor.

"You guys joining us?" Nick asked, indicating the group at the sofa.

"Do we have to?" Murray groaned. Mark untangled himself from Melba and rose gracefully, then turned and pulled Murray to his feet.

"Come on, _mi hermano_," he said, squeezing the thin hand. "You're not entitled to special treatment anymore."

"I've been telling him that for months," Cody griped, standing and stretching his stiff back.

"Yet you go on treating me special." He moved subtly against Cody, facing him for just a second and pressing their concealed scars together. Cody melted inside, as he always did, but his expression didn't change. He let his hand brush Murray's hip, too briefly to be seen but long enough to be felt, and they went over to the table together.

Murray sat on the bench between Nick and Cody, looking around and realizing that everyone he loved was here on this boat, right now. Not just every living person, but everyone. He saw his mother, sweet and sassy and smart, in Melba's face, looking like she had when Murray was a teenager. He saw his father's loving good humor in Mark's eyes, responsible but laughing at him, as always. And, painted so boldly on Stacey's face that he was nearly an aura, was Bonefish Eddie, the one who somehow brought them all together. Murray didn't know him, at least not the way he knew the others, but he loved him just as much.

"Hey, Boz, you okay?" Cody whispered, nudging him gently. "Food's getting cold."

"What? Oh, yes, I'm fine," he smiled, picking up his fork. "Everything's just fine."


End file.
